What's a Girl to Do? (Season 3)
by originella
Summary: Murphy Gallagher's life has changed: Still an attorney for the firm, Murphy must juggle three of her toughest cases yet - being a full-time single mom with two men vying for her affections, as well as family drama, plus a big case for the firm itself. With Josh wanting a relationship with her and Nicholas just seeming to want a friends with benefits situation, how will Murph cope?
1. I Have a Dream

Chapter One: I Have a Dream

Most mothers might feel relief when they drop off something the size of a Christmas ham at a posh-looking daycare center, but I found I was trying not to hold back the tears. Trying to keep my head up as I walked in through the double doors—Iana strapped to my chest and Liam holding tightly to my hand—I wanted to find Rebecca Aldridge, the childcare coordinator who I'd spoken to on the phone, and interviewed with, last April. I walked around the corner, Liam keeping a good grip on my hand, and, when I saw Rebecca, I felt instant relief.

"Oh, Murphy!" Rebecca said, her voice as warm as it had been five months previously, as she motioned for another worker to continue to oversee a small group of some slightly older infants having tummy time. "And this young man must be Liam."

Liam smiled shyly up at Rebecca. "Hi, Ms. Aldridge," he said.

"Nice to meet you, Liam," Rebecca said sweetly before looking up at me. "And this precious thing must be Iana?"

I nodded, unhooking the buckle of the strap and easing her gently away from my chest. "Here she is," I said, holding her out to Rebecca.

"Oh, she's beautiful," Rebecca gushed, holding out her arms immediately, waiting patiently for me to place Iana into them. "You've brought her sleeping schedule?"

"Yes," I replied, handing over the paperwork, along with her bag. "There's more diapers in there, plus some milk."

"Wonderful," Rebecca said. "And the other schedule is in the bag for pick-ups?"

"Yes," I replied. "I'll be picking her up every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at three-thirty, and Tuesday and Thursday at five," I said.

"Perfect," Rebecca said as I looked down at Iana. "I'll put the milk in the fridge while you and Liam say your goodbyes."

"Thank you," I replied, smiling at her as she walked to the kitchen. "I love you, my darling," I whispered to her, kissing her head. I was pleased at the progression of her hair growth—black hair was growing healthily from her scalp, and she never pulled on it. "Liam, would you like to say goodbye to Iana?" I asked.

"Yes, please," Liam replied.

I bent down then, holding out Iana, and smiled when Liam kissed her forehead. "All right," I said quietly, waiting for Rebecca to return, and handed her over. "I guess that's it, then."

"We have your direct office line, and your cell phone number, so don't worry about a thing, please, Murphy," Rebecca said. "Everything will be fine."

"Thank you," I said, appreciating the encouragement as I shook her hand. "I'll see you later on this afternoon then. Come on, Liam," I said, taking him by the hand and leading him out of there and back towards my car.

"Why does Iana have to go to daycare, Murphy?" Liam asked.

I smiled. "Well, because she's too young to go to a big boy school like you," I explained, letting the button click to unlock my car, and watched to make sure Liam got into his booster seat before I shut the door. "And besides," I went on, getting into the car myself, "she's too little to be home alone all day."

"Why?"

"Because it's not safe," I said gently. "Ian and I only just began leaving you inside when we got outside with Iana sometimes, but you're old enough to come outside if there's an emergency. Do you know why?"

"Because I can walk and talk?" Liam asked.

I nodded, starting up the car. "Exactly. And now," I went on, pulling out of my parking space and out into the street, "we've got to get you to school, little man."

The drive was quiet twenty minutes later, when I'd dropped off Liam at school and drove the rest of the way to the firm. It was my first official day back after giving birth, and while I was pleased to be getting back to work, the separation anxiety after dropping off Iana had already settled in. I was pleased that Josh had come over in the days leading up to my return, and he was bonding excellently with Iana. We had even begun discussing dates to begin our dating, which I found I was surprisingly all right with, despite his points of contention with Nicholas. I did my best to put it out of my mind, hoping that Josh merely didn't have the full story, and that he wasn't bad-mouthing Nicholas on purpose.

"You're back!" Rachel said, getting to her feet as I came in. She reached into the mini fridge she had beside her desk, and handed over a strawberry smoothie. "Welcome back, Murphy. It's been so quiet without you."

I rolled my eyes, taking the smoothie and sipping it, and hoping that it was a compliment, and that "quite" meant "boring". "Thanks for this," I replied, forcing a smile. "This is sweet—it means a lot. Any messages?"

"No, just well-wishes to you returning to the firm," Rachel replied, handing over the small pieces of paper, her hair now just past her shoulders. "Will there be anything else?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine, Rachel, thanks. I'll let you know if there's anything else I'll be needing," I said, smiling at her as I headed back to my office. I turned the brass knob and let myself in automatically, shutting the door behind me and flicking on the light as I walked towards my desk. I set my bag down upon its surface and circled it, plunking myself down in the chair finely cushioned chair. I switched on my computer, finding a welcome back email—signed from Hugo, Allie, and Nicholas—and smiled at myself, typing a quick reply to let them know I was at the office in one piece.

I bit my lip, remembering my foolish behavior last time I'd been in the office, and made a mental note that none of it could ever happen again. It was silly, that's what it was, downright silly—I was behaving like a teenage girl, and that was unacceptable, due to my new title as a mother. I was on my way into a new, adult relationship with Josh, and fantasizing about the son of my boss was the very definition of unprofessional. Besides, I reasoned with myself as I took out the latest research I'd gathered on Paul Farris, Nicholas had made it very clear where he and I stood—as Jasmine was pregnant, he had a commitment to her, and I was out of the picture, so, therefore, he should have meant nothing to me.

Nicholas himself emailed me just before eleven, asking me about my progress on the notion that Paul Farris was our actual killer. I told him I'd managed to find the needle in the haystack, and would see him in the conference room in half an hour. He replied quickly, much to my surprise, telling me that he looked forward to the information I found, and I was shocked at the polite manner I got from the email itself. I quickly got to my feet at just minutes before our meeting time, gathering up the research which was, thankfully, not reeking of breast milk as I left my office and made for the conference room.

By just the right amount of focus, I'd been going jogging with Iana in her stroller throughout the summer, and had just managed to lose my last pound of baby weight the week before. I was slightly curvier since my pregnancy—the slight willowy build I'd grown up with fading away entirely—but, I found I looked better than before. My color was back as well, and since Iana slept so well, I didn't look like a wreck, and my hair even managed not to dry out, despite the rumors that it would, since I'd given birth to a daughter.

I stepped towards the conference room then and pushed open the door without ceremony, half expecting to see Hugo and Allie in there with Nicholas, but checking myself when I saw that it was only Nicholas who occupied the large desk, and straightened my shoulders then, forcing myself not to be intimidated with something this daunting as seeing someone you wanted very much to fuck upon last seeing them. "Hey," I said, trying to sound casual, shutting the door behind me and walking around the desk, doing my absolute best not to trip in the new heels I'd bought for myself. "Hugo and Allie joining us?"

"Home with Charlotte for the morning," Nicholas replied, looking over his paperwork until I stood across from him, and, when he looked up, he started for a moment before clearing his throat awkwardly. "I assume you've found some new information on Paul Farris?"

"Yeah, yes," I said, sitting immediately across from him and pulling out the documentation, as well as attempting to ignore the flush which developed upon my cheeks. "As you can see, our firm's P.I. has outdone themselves," I said, sliding over the papers, along with photos to seal the deal. "We've managed to obtain bank statements from Nigeria and the Bahamas, of which Paul Farris has accumulated the largest off-shore accounts for the Farris Foundation. And," I said, showing off just a little, "those investors he's been meeting with?"

"Let me guess," Nicholas says, eyeing the photographs of Paul Farris, along with some associates at some four dollar sign resort. "They're cads?"

I nodded. "Exactly!"

Nicholas's eyes met mine. "What's their game?"

I held up my hand, producing one of the phony emails their offshore accounts would frequently send out. "The poor schmucks that fall for this shit are in deep, I'm afraid—upwards of two million have been put into the foundation," I said. "Their game is that, on the surface, Farris Foundation helps underprivileged kids in America, right?"

Nicholas nodded. "Yes. My parents were avid supporters of them..."

I clicked my tongue then, feeling a wave of sympathy for Hugo and Allie, and hoped that they wouldn't be damaged by association. "Well, it seems that Paul Farris is nothing but a fraud," I said, pulling out the last of the photographs, feeling sick for the P.I. who had to take them, as I handed them over. "See anything?"

Nicholas took them and look, his face contorting into one of disgust. "You have got to be fucking kidding me right now..."

"My thoughts exactly," I reply, taking the photographs back and shoving them into the bottom of my bag, wondering how in the hell I was going to dispose of them before anyone in law enforcement saw me in possession of them. "It seems as though they lure underprivileged youths in underdeveloped countries for satisfactory purposes, once that could and likely already have damaged those young lives. The cover story—mentioned explicitly in the emails—is that the Farris Foundation would provide jobs and places to live for these children, but they're just taken, used, and dumped somewhere too far away to ever get help."

"And you think that Grandpapa Farris found out?"

"Well, of course—Paul was CEO of the company, but Grandpapa Farris was still on the board of directors, with access to all the funds... _All_ the funds," I said, shuddering at the thought of it. "So, he must've seen it, and wanted to confront Paul, but someone on the inside got wind of it, and so Paul sent Jackie to do the dirty work for him."

"That's reasonable, Murphy, sure, but—"

I extracted the last thing from my bag, a small disc from a security camera. "See for yourself," I said, popping it into the attached Blu-Ray player on the rooms' flat screen. "As you can see," I said quietly, nodding to the scenes that I'd had cut together, "the Farris family all lived in the same house, and it was all a horror show. This," I said, nodding to the scene where a twelve-year-old Jackie runs away from something in terror, still slightly hidden in the shadows, "is the first of it."

Nicholas watched in horror as a much-younger Paul chased Jackie into a very elaborate bedroom, whereupon he began assaulting her. I skipped ahead then, showing him the extent of the abuse, the last one dated three days before the murder. Twenty-two-year-old Jackie was trembling after the latest attack, her eyes filled with sorrow and shock, almost as if she wondered why her father seemed so incapable of loving her properly.

"You know how much Daddy likes it when you do things for him?" Paul asked on the disc. He was sitting on the edge of her bed, buttoning up his shirt.

"Y-yes, Daddy," Jackie whispered, her voice that of a girl—a twelve-year-old girl, as most of my psychology professors said that some development ends at the assault.

"Well, there is something you can do for Daddy, Jackie, and I promise," he said, reaching backwards and running his hand along her leg, "this will never happen again."

Jackie looked up at him, trying not to squirm away from his disgusting touch. "What do you mean, Daddy?" she asked, her voice small.

"Well, I'll let you go to Paris if you do this last thing for me," he said gently. "Go to Paris and study art or poetry or whatever you want—and I'll pay for it. You just have to get your passport renewed, and do this one thing for Daddy, and then you can go."

Jackie nodded. "What do I have to do, Daddy?"

Paul smiled, loving that he was clearly the one in power. "You have to kill your grandfather, Jackie, because if you don't, he'll ruin us."

I cut to the next scene then, which was of Jackie breaking into the house, wielding a gun, and using it to shoot her grandfather in the back of the head. "Case closed," I said quietly as the camera cut out. "Jackie's the triggerman, but Paul's the brains."

"Why did she sound like such a little kid?" Nicholas asked.

"Delayed development due to the assault," I replied, and Nicholas turned to look at me. "A lot of psychologists think that, without treatment and continued assaults, the victim will regress mentally to the point of when the assaults began."

"So, mentally, Jackie's not twenty-two?" Nicholas wanted to know.

I shook my head. "No. Mentally she's twelve, wanting her father to love her, and doing anything he asks her."

"Plus, it's her ticket to freedom..." Nicholas said quietly.

I nodded. "Yeah, there's that."

"We... We all have things in our pasts we want to escape, right?"

I gave a stiff nod at that. "Yeah. I mean, I guess. Speaking from experience, I think if I had someone like Paul Farris come at me, I'd kill him."

"Because of your stepfather?"

I sighed. "Yeah. Pretty horrible fucker..."

"I'm sorry," Nicholas said then, reaching out and taking my hand. "You didn't deserve that, Murphy—any of it. And I sure as hell don't want it happening again—not to you, not to anyone, but especially not to you, because...you don't deserve it, Murph."

I opened my mouth to say something then—my heart beating in my ears at the feeling of his hand on mine—but I shut it quickly, and pulled my hand away from him. "You shouldn't do that, Nicholas," I admonished him, gathering up my evidence and putting it all into my bag. "You said yourself my behavior in June was unprofessional, and I apologized for it, many times." I crossed the room and popped the disc out of the player. "You should really go home to Jasmine if you want comfort like that—"

"Jasmine moved out," Nicholas replied. "Left me..."

I stopped walking, my pursuit of the conference room door forgotten as I turned around to face Nicholas, my heart in my throat. "What?" I asked.

"Packed her shit and left, moved to Los Angeles," he replied. "Got a big modeling contract and decided it was time to split."

"But... But what about the baby?" I managed to get out, hating myself for sounding so emotionally invested in this, in him, after all the promises I'd made to myself. "Did you tell Jasmine that you didn't want kids or something?"

Nicholas shrugged. "There was no baby, Murphy."

I raised my eyebrows. "No baby?"

"No. Jasmine thought... Well, she thought there was something going on between us, so she figured if she made up a pregnancy, I'd stay with her."

"Shit," I whispered.

"Shit is right," Nicholas replied. "Things went too fast with her, I know that. But the worst part of it was, I missed out on what I had right in front of me."

I hesitated then, gripping onto my bag, and using it like a shield to prevent him from coming any closer to me. "And what's that?" I asked, my voice deliberately quiet.

"It's not so much a that as it is a who," Nicholas said. "Things were so different and so amazing with you, Murphy—you didn't stand for any of my shit, and you... You could take it," he said, gazing up from his parts and to mine. "You could take it, hard, and you never told me to stop, and the women I've been with in the past..." He shrugged. "...couldn't take it."

"You know that I have Iana," I said quietly. "And Josh and I are seeing if he and I could one day be something..."

"Iana is an exception—she's a great baby, Murphy," Nicholas said, and I smiled then, loving it when people complimented my daughter. "And you're not with Josh now, are you?"

I shook my head. "No. We haven't even been on a date yet."

"I'm not asking you for a date, Murphy. I'm asking you for some fun."

I tilted my head then, considering it, and nodded. "Okay. I guess I could go for some fun," I replied, turning around and locking the conference room door.

Next, I threw my paperwork onto the desk with a flourish, before shoving Nicholas down, hard on its surface. I grinned at him as he laughed at the juxtaposition of it all, before he grabbed me by my waist and lay me down on the desk himself. I covered my mouth to prevent the inevitable squeal that would turn into a groan as I heard him removing his pants, the telltale sound of a condom wrapper opening behind me.

I gripped the edges of the large desk I lay upon, my heart beating faster than it ever had in my entire life, as I braced myself for impact. I felt a deep, shuddering breath coax itself through me as Nicholas did, and I let one of the edges of the desk go, stopping the moans that escaped my lips as he made the ultimate contact inside me with the back of my hand. I felt my eyes rolling back into my head at the extent of it, loving all he was doing to me, and never wanting any of it to stop.

"Fuck, Nick," I whispered, the rest of his name becoming lost as I jabbed my hand back into my mouth to prevent from screaming.

He leaned down then, his weight a delicious impact upon me as he shoved himself deeper inside me, towards my core. "You calling me Nick is just making me harder, Murphy."

I turned my head sideways then, locking my eyes with his. "Nick, Nick, Nick," I whispered to him, grinning up at him.

Nicholas pursed his lips. "Maybe I shouldn't..." He said, easing out.

"No!" I cried then, moving my hands back and grabbing his perfect ass before he could slide out of me completely. "Stay in there," I said, my knees trembling. "I want... I don't want you to stop, Nicholas, please..."

Nicholas leaned down against me again, his delicious self just teasing my opening. "Tell me what you want, right here, right now, Murphy..."

"Hard," I managed to get out, my eyes watering from the pain of him not pleasuring me. "I want it harder, Nicholas. Please. Harder."

"Your wish is my command," he replied, suddenly filling me then.

"Nicholas!" I cried out then, suddenly clamping a hand over my mouth. "Oh, my god..." I moaned against my hand. "Oh...Nicholas... Fuck," I whispered. I felt my knees giving way then as I threatened to collapse against the desk, but I suddenly managed to get ahold of my footing as he slipped out of me. I yanked up my panties and yanked down my skirt, relieved that my blouse wasn't ruined as I made a grab for my documents.

"You're fucking great, Murphy," Nicholas said.

I turned around then, and smiled up at him. "Thanks," I replied. "I've gotta admit, I've missed that—fucking you is fucking amazing."

"Really?" he asked, tilting my chin up with one finger, staring right into my eyes. "Anything else you've missed?"

I scoffed then, pulling out of his grip and gently patting him on the cheek. "Nice try, big boy," I said, tossing my hair with attitude before I unlocked the conference room door and stepped out, going back to my office. I stepped inside, shutting the door behind me then and gravitating over to my desk, setting down my paperwork and seeing that it was almost time for lunch. I saw two texts awaiting me then—one from Ian and one from Josh—both asking me to lunch. I chose Ian, apologizing to Josh, and called my brother.

"Why do I get the feeling you've done something you shouldn't?" Ian asked when I called him back, making my way towards the elevator. "This twin-sense is getting weird..."

I shrugged, keeping my wallet close to me and my phone pressed to my ear as I pressed the down button on the elevator. "Nothing that someone over twenty-one can't do, Ian."

He scoffed on the other end of the phone. "Oh, really? You're going to play the age card?"

"I could also play the salary card, you know, or the degree card," I fired back with a laugh as I stepped into the elevator after it arrived. "Not hard to do, you know..."

"Yeah, yeah... What are you hungry for?"

"We could go to the bistro today," I replied. "I'll buy."

"Fine," Ian replied. "Meet you there in twenty."

When I arrived, I saw Ian sitting in a booth by an expansive window, and smiled at him as I approached, while he got to his feet and pulled me into a hug. We sat down then, across from one another, just staring, wondering who would be the one to ultimately break the ice, now that we were face-to-face. Finally, Ian sighed, his ice floating sporadically in his water glass, and lifted it to his lips, obviously wanting me to be the one.

I rolled my eyes. _So, we're playing that game, are we_? I thought to myself, shaking my head as I took a sip of my own water. "You obviously want to ask me something, Ian, so ask. No harm in asking, and I can always choose not to answer you."

He sighed. "Well, I guess I'm wondering if you're sleeping with Nicholas," he replied, and I nearly choked on my water, averting my eyes.

"Sleeping with him?! What the fuck, Ian?!" I hissed under my breath. "You know as well as I do that he's with Jasmine, and they're expecting," I tell him, the lie falling easily off my tongue. "I mean, besides, there's the troubled background to consider..."

"Not to mention Iana," Ian interrupted, and I quickly cursed myself inwardly for not mentioning her first. "You've got a daughter now, Murph. You need to think about her needs, like the need of a father..."

I shook my head. "You're her surrogate father—you know that," I said, leaning back in the booth as the waitress came over. I ordered a sandwich, and Ian did the same, although our tones were noncommittal and remained that way until she left us alone.

"You wrote out the list of who can get her from daycare if you're not available, right?"

I nodded. "Of course. You're first, then Fiona, then Debbie..."

"Anyone else?"

I sighed, picking up my water and sipping it. "Trevor."

"Wait. Really?" Ian asked.

I nodded. "Of course. He's great with Iana, and she's grown attached, I think. I don't mind if he picks her up, Ian, really I don't. I mean... Do you mind?"

Ian shook his head. "No. I don't mind."

"Great," I replied, my phone vibrating against my leg. I pulled it out of my pocket, and Kevin's number at The Alibi showed up. "Weird..."

"What?" Ian asked.

"Something's up," I said, showing him the number, and Ian raised his eyebrows. I swiped the green phone icon and placed the phone up to my ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, Murph, it's Kev—long time no talk," he said, the pleasantries going out the window in the next moment. "Listen, Frank's here and he's crying and all wasted... He's asking for you to come and get him..."

My eyes locked with Ian's then, and his eyes were filled with rage. "I'm sorry, Kev—I'm so sorry. Frank's asking for what?"

"For you to come and get him," Kevin replied, obviously uncomfortable with the entire situation he'd been presented with. "Please. He could be scaring away customers."

"Fuck," I whispered under my breath, covering my phone with my ear. "Can you come with me and help me handle him, please?"

"Jesus Christ," Ian muttered. "Yeah. Fine. I'll go tell them to rush our sandwiches, and we can eat them on the way."

"Awesome," I said sarcastically, waiting for him to get up before I re-positioned the phone back to my ear. "Kev? You still there?"

"Yeah."

"Ian and I will be there in a few minutes, okay?"

"Great," Kevin replied. "See you two soon."

I handed over my credit card for the sandwiches and, ten minutes later, Ian and I were driving to The Alibi to retrieve our absent father, for unknown reasons. I chewed my chicken and pesto sandwich carefully, not wanting to bite my lip and bleed everywhere. Thankfully, there was no blood—or pesto on my shirt—when we arrived at the bar. Parking outside, Ian and I threw our now-empty to-go boxes away and made our way inside, spotting Frank in the back corner, on the floor, wailing about something.

"Back there," Kevin said, looking uncomfortable.

"Thanks," I replied, my tone riddled with sarcasm as I walked by.

"Yeah, thanks a lot," Ian said, following me.

"What the fuck, Frank?!" I demanded, walking straight over to him, my heels clicking angrily on the wooden floor. "I'm trying to have a life! I don't need my father stepping in after two decades and ruining it!"

Frank looked up at me. "You're so like your mother..."

I reached up automatically and socked him in the mouth. "You need to shut the fuck up, old man, or worse'll be coming to you."

Frank cupped his mouth. "Jesus fucking Christ," he said. "You even hit like the old bitch, too. I mean, what the fuck...?"

"Shut up, Frank," Ian replied, stepping next to me. "Tell us what the fuck you want, and then go and sober up before we kick you there."

Frank looked up imploringly at the two of us. "Have hearts, you two. You're twins—isn't one of you supposed to be nice?"

Tired of his shit, I made a grab for his collar then, slamming him up against the wall. "Nice went out the window when you fucking attacked me!"

Frank held out a finger in protest. "You didn't press charges, did you?"

I released his collar, moving to stand back next to Ian, who automatically gravitated towards me in a moment of protection. "No. I didn't. But maybe I should've pressed charges—you can get AA or some shit in prison."

"Nobody would ever talk to you again," Frank said, his tone filled with desperate pleas. "No Gallagher would ever speak to you again if you turned in dear old dad."

Ian reached around me then, slamming Frank up against the wall himself, hard, and Frank's neck snapped back and hit the wall. " _Don't_ fucking threaten Murphy with desertion," Ian said through his teeth as Frank swore aloud. "None of us would desert her. We're on her side in this, Frank, and none of us need you, but we all need her."

Frank tried to spit at Ian, his teeth coated in blood from the impact of my fist, which was still shaking at my side. "I heard that I had another granddaughter..."

I scoffed then, crossing my arms. "Yeah—four months ago. What hole were you buried so far deep in that you didn't hear about it?"

Frank shrugged. "I've been around..."

"Yeah right," Ian scoffed. "Stop lying and get to the point."

"Well, I'd like to meet the little thing..."

"You're not going fucking near Iana, after all the bullshit you put me and this family through, Frank," I said, on the defense immediately. "Iana's mine, dammit, and she's got nothing to do with you!"

Frank spat out blood then, and Ian and I instinctively moved back. "Well, she's a Gallagher, isn't she? My granddaughter's a Gallagher? Or did you give her the name of that thug Ian used to run around with?"

Immediately, I made a grab for Ian, holding him back from Frank. "I want to hit him again as much as you do," I whispered to him then. "But he's not worth it, Ian. He's not worth it. He'll never be a dad, but he's our father. We don't respect him for shit, and he doesn't respect us, but we can walk out of here," I say, feeling relieved when he turns and looks at me. "We can fucking walk out of here, and tell Kevin that Frank's not our problem. He doesn't fucking matter, Ian, and he shouldn't matter."

Ian sighed, lowering his fists and turning to Frank, glaring at him. "You stay the fuck away from us, Frank—me, Murphy, Iana, and Liam—but, as for the rest of my siblings..." He shrugs. "I can't stop them from making the biggest mistake of their lives by associating with you again. It's their problem," he said, putting an arm around me and moving me towards the door.

"Wait!" Kevin said, walking around the bar and up to us. "Aren't you going to get him out of here for me?"

I looked up at him. "No, Kevin, we're not. We're not his fucking keepers. This is your bar, so grow some balls and do it yourself," I said, walking over to the door and pushing it open almost effortlessly.

"Fucking Gallagher's," Kevin muttered before it slammed behind us.


	2. Boundaries Are Made To Be Broken

Chapter Two: Boundaries Are Made To Be Broken

Walking into the firm the following morning felt like a relief; not that I enjoyed handing Iana over to Rebecca for the second morning in a row, but because of the unexpectedness of what lay ahead for me. As I arrived at my office and let myself in, I deposited my belongings on top of my desk and immediately sat down to attempt to organize them, as well as to check my emails. It was a pleasant notion that nothing pressing was lurking inside my inbox, so I merely lay back in my chair, staring up at the ceiling for a few moments, until a knock at the door caught me off guard for a moment.

"Come in," I called, pulling my notes toward me—even more research on Paul Farris, except this time, they involved his youth.

The door opened and Allie popped her head in and smiled at me. "Hey," she said in an affectionate manner, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. "So sorry that Hugo and I couldn't be here on your first day back."

I shook my head. "No, that's all right," I replied, getting to my feet and crossing over to her, where she hugged me briefly. "I know that she's on the mend—at least, that's what Nicholas said to me yesterday. The treatment's working?"

Allie nodded. "So we've been told," she replied, crossing her arms as self-consciousness seemed to radiate from her. "It's not like we've been given an instruction booklet on these things. I mean, there's research out there, of course, but it's never concrete. Every case is different, and we just can't go onto WebMD and check her symptoms every chance we get."

I felt my expression morph into one I hoped read sympathy. "Yes, of course," I replied. "She's a lovely girl, Charlotte, and I know that she's well looked-after."

"Yes; we always have a nurse there or on call," Allie said quietly. "Thankfully, we can afford it, due to the family money..."

I reach out then, placing my hand on Allie's shoulder. "You know you can come to me if you need anything, Allie. I mean it. Even if you just need someone to cook for Charlotte, or to just sit with her for a while. Hey, I could even bring Iana, if that wouldn't exhaust her. I remember she said that she wanted to meet her..."

"That would be lovely, Murphy, thank you," Allie said, smiling at me. "I'm sure Hugo wouldn't mind—he thinks you're one of our best workers."

I shrug my shoulders, letting out a small laugh. "Oh, I don't know," I replied. "I just do extensive research and write notes..."

"You know your facts, Murphy, and facts are an important element of the law. We need to find the opposing side guilty, beyond a reasonable doubt. You've successfully brought up our victory percentage from seventy-five to eighty-percent in the last year that you've been here, which is a very successful feat."

I smiled. "Well, thank you," I reply. "I'm just doing my job."

"And other than your job," Allie said, "how is Iana doing?"

I found I was grinning then as I removed my phone from my pocket, getting to my gallery, and turning the phone to face her. "I took that last night when Ian and I were giving her a bath," I explained, and Allie let out a small giggle at that. "She seemed to want to put the bubbles onto her head, and I thought it was a wonderful picture opportunity..."

"And Josh?" she asked as I returned my phone to my pocket. "How have things been going with him? Are you two official yet?"

I swallowed then, wondering how to spin this. "Well, we hung out a lot during the summer—he came over quite a bit, spent some time with Iana, and she's quite fond of him," I replied. "We haven't been out-out yet, and we're not boyfriend and girlfriend. We're just friends, and seeing where it goes..."

"But you like him?" Allie clarified.

I nodded then. "Yeah," I said, hoping it didn't sound forced. "Of course I like him. He's very nice, and he's great with Iana, which really helps..."

"He's what you would call stable, I suppose," Allie said.

"Yeah. I mean, financially and mentally, sure. He's got a past, but so do I, and it's not like we're never going to discuss them at length. But as for it being official..." I shook my head. "Nothing's been said on that yet."

"Do you want to be official?"

I shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know," I replied. "He's nice enough, and he's attractive, but there's got to be more, doesn't there?"

"More?"

"Yeah, like...chemistry," I said, whispering the word as if it was an obscenity.

"Have you two kissed?"

I nodded. "Yes. Our first kiss was actually at Iana's baby shower," I said, thinking back to that day, and remembering enjoying Josh's lips on mine, but I shrugged.

"What?"

"Well, I thought I enjoyed it, at the time, but... I don't know, aren't your hormones really crazy when you're pregnant?"

Allie laughed. "If I remember correctly, yes."

"Well, maybe it was just my hormones acting up or something," I said, not knowing what else to pin it on. "Maybe I'm not into Josh..."

"Give it some time," Allie said diplomatically. "You've got a lot on your plate right now—the Farris case, Iana, navigating your world from attorney to mother... The time will come when you can assess your feelings for Josh in a timely manner. Remember, you're very young—you're only twenty-two, Murphy. You've got plenty of time."

I nodded. "I'm going to try it, with him—the whole relationship thing—if that's what he ends up wanting," I say quietly. "I mean, he'd be a logical choice for me, plus he's great with Iana, and he would be great for me."

Allie smiled, reaching out and squeezing my arm. "That's the spirit."

I gave a quick nod then, just as I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. Taking it out, I saw that it was Josh, and Allie gave me a conspiratory smile before she left my office. I accepted the call, and placed my phone up to my ear. "Hello?"

"You're a hard one to track down, counselor," Josh joked.

I laughed, actually finding the occupational humor funny. "Why thank you for the compliment, doctor," I replied, leaning back against my desk. "How may I help you this afternoon?"

"Well, considering that you had lunch with Ian yesterday, I thought that maybe you could do me the honor this afternoon."

"This afternoon?" I asked, turning around and pulling my day planner towards me. "I'm free until from noon until two o'clock—I've got another meeting pertaining to the Farris case. But I can meet you somewhere at noon, if you like."

"There's this delicious Italian restaurant right near the hospital," Josh replied. "Do you like Italian, Murphy?"

I nodded. "Yeah. It's my favorite."

"Great," Josh said, obviously relieved. "I've booked us a table for twelve-fifteen."

I nodded. "Okay," I said, quickly looking online and seeing the word "Victory" in the name of the restaurant, which made me smile. "I'll see you then."

In the two hours I had before meeting Josh, I caught up on the non-pressing emails—just to clear my inbox—and texted Ian, letting him know about me getting together for lunch with Josh. I thought he was at a job, given that he didn't answer right away, and forced any ill at ease thoughts from my mind. I had an email from Rebecca, who was dutifully letting me know that Iana was doing fine on her second day, and had already had her second feeding before going down for an hours' nap.

I left my office at eleven-forty-five, so as to make the reservation on time, and made my way towards the elevator, waving at Rachel before I entered the lobby. I pressed the button, and found my phone in my pocket before it vibrated. Switching it on, I found a text from Ian, in reply to mine from earlier.

 _Hot date with Doctor Josh_? _Ooh, I want all the details_!

I rolled my eyes, stepping into the elevator as it arrived and typed out my reply. _Maybe if you attempt not to be a pig for five seconds, I'll consider it_.

 _Hey, be nice_! _I'm just trying to be supportive_!

 _Maybe_ , I allowed, stepping off the elevator as it arrived in the parking garage. _But you clearly want dirty details, which would have to be fabricated, as I'm not going to repeat my experience of getting pregnant again_.

 _No_? Ian asked as I got into my car. _Iana's it_? _I'm not going to get another niece or nephew out of you, Murphy_?

I scoffed at the thought of getting pregnant again, plugging in my phone to its charger as I navigated myself out of the parking space, setting on the hand-free mode to my phone. "No," I replied to Ian aloud, my phone just catching the signal as I drove out of the lot. "Not for now, anyway. I'm just fine with having Iana."

 _Well, you've got plenty of time_ , Ian replied. _I mean, it's not like you're pushing forty or anything like that_...

"Thank you, thank you," I said, rolling my eyes at the notion of being a woman in her late thirties, and found I was cringing at the thought of aging that drastically. "But I think I have plenty of time to decide on more children in the future."

I stopped replying then as I got onto the freeway, wanting to make sure I didn't miss the exit for the restaurant, or go plowing into other vehicles. The drive was supposedly about thirteen minutes from the restaurant—which was located on Michigan Avenue, from my office on Ashland Avenue—and I didn't want to be late. Once the exit came, I drove off the highway and made my way promptly to the address, which was quite close to Josh's workplace. I pulled onto the street, parking my car and getting out, locking it up behind me and making my way towards the entrance of the building.

"Hey, Murphy!"

I turned around then, spotting Josh coming at me at a slow jog. I immediately smiled, the notion of his hair looking momentarily imperfect and boyish not lost on me as he came forward. I let him take my hand and kiss me on the cheek, before he opened the door for me and allowed me inside the restaurant first. The light wasn't blasting, and was instead attractively muted; when the hostess appeared at the front to inquire about a reservation, Josh stepped forward.

"Two under Fairfax," he replied.

"Oh, yes, I see," the woman replied, finding it on the Tablet at the hostess desk. "You're a bit early, and your table will be ready in a few moments. Enjoy a drink at the bar, and we'll let you know when we're ready for you."

"I shouldn't drink," I told Josh as the woman walked away. "With my dad—biological dad—and everything, and me working later..."

"Yeah, no, I understand," Josh said quickly. "I have to work another ten hours after this, so drinking is so far from my mind right now."

I smiled then, giving him a small nod. "Good," I replied, walking straight up to the bar. "Two iced waters, please," I said to the bartender.

"Coming right up," he said, a twinkle in his dark eyes, which quickly vanished as Josh came up behind me.

"How's your case coming along?" Josh asked after thanking me for handing over his glass of iced water. "Well?"

I nodded, knowing that I had to tread on shaky ground whenever discussing any of my cases, due to their high-profile nature. "Fine," I replied. "We're getting good information, thanks to our company P.I., so it looks like we'll ultimately get the verdict we want." I let the silence hang for a moment, sipping my water before I spoke again. "And the patients? You must have some interesting stories there..."

"Tons," Josh replied with a smile. "Mrs. Irene Baker comes in every other week for dialysis—she's a lovely woman, a widow. Her and her husband were married for over fifty years, and he just passed away from kidney disease five years back, and now she has it."

I nodded. "Well, my psychology teacher said that, in long-term marriages, sometimes the still-surviving spouse likes to go by the way of their deceased one, so as they can truly understand the physical pain the other went through."

Josh raised his eyebrows. "I hadn't considered that."

"No?" I asked, turning as the hostess called for us to go to our table.

We crossed the restaurant, to the other side, where a two-person table had been made ready for the two of us, and I slipped into the chair further away. Josh sat across from me, thanking the waiter at the same moment I did when our menus were handed over. We made small talk about the menu, Josh opting for the lasagna, and me for veal parmesan, and we sat in silence for another few moments until the waiter returned. We ordered our entrées and then continued our conversation at length.

"Iana's doing well at her daycare?"

I nodded, returning my water to the table after sipping it. "Yeah. Rebecca, the owner and supervisor, sent me a report a couple of hours ago. Iana accomplished her second feeding of the morning and is already on her first nap."

"That means she's settling into the environment well," Josh said expertly. "If she's eating and sleeping, then she's fine with it there. You also want to be wary about that," he said gently to me, obviously not wanting to overstep with his level of expertise.

"Wary of...?" I asked.

"Wary of her friendliness towards strangers," he said. "Once she's old enough to understand, you will have to let her know that not everyone out there can be seen as a friend, but also that she cannot present herself as fearful to the outside world. It's a fine line," Josh said quietly, sipping at his water, "between being completely fearful and being knowledgeable enough of your surroundings to act accordingly."

I smiled, pleased that Josh had broached the subject in such a tentative manner. "Thanks," I said then, truly grateful. "I guess most people who consider themselves experts on one subject or other could have the propensity to sound boastful. You just sound helpful, and concerned, and I really appreciate that."

"Iana means a lot to you, so she means a lot to me, too," Josh said. "She's a beautiful child, and I just wouldn't want anything bad to happen to her..." He hesitated for a moment then, almost as if he wanted to ask something, but was unsure if consequences went with it. "I mean, didn't your brother kidnap a baby once?"

My hands, which by this time had wandered to my lap, began knotting themselves around one another, as my nerves got out of hand. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, I suppose, if I'd had a child brought into a similar environment, I would want to set up precautions to make sure the situation didn't repeat itself."

"It won't repeat itself," I said, trying hard to keep my tone neutral. "The situations are entirely different, with nothing in common."

"Except your brother."

I lowered my eyes. "Look, Josh, there's a few things about my family that are difficult to understand, and I'm not comfortable with you yet discussing anything having to do with anyone else. We can discuss me, and Iana, and that's it. Okay?"

"Of course," Josh said, backtracking immediately. "I'm sorry, Murphy. I didn't mean to overstep myself back there. If I crossed a line, or hit a nerve, I'm sorry."

I gave a stiff nod. "It's no problem," I replied.

I felt instant relief when our entrées arrived, and I did my best to finish most of it, as I couldn't very well bring it home with me, due to the hours of work I had to complete in between. When the waiter asked, after we'd eaten the vast majority of our meal, if we wanted dessert, I quickly declined, saying that I had to return to the firm. I noticed that Josh looked visibly uncomfortable around me since our conversation had trickled itself out soon after our food had come, but I was thankful he didn't apologize again. I told him he needn't walk me to my car, as I was in a hurry to get back, and merely said goodbye to him at the door to the restaurant before making a quick jaunt to my car to return to the firm.

The traffic was light along the highway, putting my travel time down to just eleven and a half minutes before I arrived at the firms' parking garage. Taking my customary spot, I gathered my wallet, keys, and phone before returning upstairs to my office. I walked through the lobby and passed Rachel's desk again; once she caught my eye, she merely gave me a sympathetic wave, knowing I likely wasn't in the mood to do any talking. I was pleased that she seemed to read my signals so readily, and as I reached my office, I felt pleased at the notion that I had nearly an hour to myself before the two o'clock meeting that afternoon.

I plunked down at my desk as soon as I'd crossed around it, pulling my phone towards me and firing a text off to Ian.

 _Date didn't go well—if you could even call it a "date". I think the term "failure" comes readily to mind, right about now... Will tell you later at home—love you_!

I switched my phone off then, knowing that I needed a fully sixty minutes of quiet to mentally prepare myself for seeing Nicholas again after what had transpired just yesterday. Suffice it to say, I hadn't prepared myself for such a reaction at seeing him again after three months, and the notion that he'd ended things with Jasmine—and that she was now living on the other end of the country—boded both good and bad for me. Good, because Nicholas and I could continue to resolve our issues, if that was what one would call them. And bad, because I knew it technically wasn't being fair to Josh, even though nothing had been said yet.

I gathered my things at the appointed time, leaving my office and walking towards the conference room in double time, not wanting to be late. I was nearly unsurprised when I opened the door, revealing Nicholas sitting alone at the desk, and somehow realized that Hugo and Allie were letting the two of us take the reins on this case. Not complaining, I shut the door behind me and made my way around the desk, feeling Nicholas's eyes no me as soon as I entered his line of sight, and did my best to remain professional as I sat across from him. Pulling my notes towards me, I was about to launch into a monologue about Paul Farris's early life, when Nicholas suddenly got to his feet, slamming his hand down—flat—on top of the documents.

Immediately, I raise my eyes to his, seeing that they are black and with little to no emotion behind them. "Yes?" I asked, forcing my voice not to shake. "Is something wrong? Did you have something to contribute before I did?"

"No."

"Well, then, if you would permit me, you and I have much to discuss when it comes to the case we're working on," I said, attempting to keep my tone level.

Nicholas removed his hand from the documents, returning to his chair. "All right. Talk. Tell me about Paul's enthralling early life."

I blinked, momentarily fazed by his acquiescing to my demands before I gathered the notes towards me again. "Well, Paul apparently lost his mother when he was five, and his father never remarried, yet preferred to spend his time working. Paul went to boarding school pretty soon after her death, in New York, and stayed there until he was seventeen, when he graduated from high school. He then took a year off," I continued, "where he traveled around Europe and met his wife, married her in Paris, and then they returned to New York where they both attended New York University and had Jackie a few months after graduation, whereupon they both returned here, to Chicago, where his father handed over the foundation to him."

"All this was in the biography," Nicholas replied, sounding disinterested.

I sighed, not knowing what the matter was, and wanting to clear it up before it was too late. "Is something the matter with Charlotte?" I asked.

"What?" Nicholas asked, his tone confused.

"You're acting as if something's up," I said, spreading my hands, utterly confused at his thought process that afternoon. "I don't understand. Is Charlotte all right?"

He sighed, turning around to face me fully, his eyes locking with mine. "Nothing's wrong with Charlotte, Murphy."

"Okay," I said, growing irritated that we weren't getting much closer to the truth. "Then, what is the matter? Why are you acting like something's wrong?"

Nicholas sighed. "This is bullshit..."

Finding that I could no longer stand it, my hand curled into a fist then, which I slammed down, hard, onto the conference table. "What's bullshit?!" I demanded, and Nicholas looked shocked at the tone in which I was addressing him. "No, I want to know, Nicholas. What the fuck are you calling 'bullshit' here?!" I cried out, my voice shaking with anticipation. "I don't understand why you're acting this way—it's almost as if you think you've been wronged somehow. What the hell is going on with you?! Tell me!"

Nicholas looked shocked at the way I'd handled the situation, and he sat there staring at me before he allowed himself to speak. "You went out with him."

"I—what?!" I demanded, looking at him as if he'd gone insane. "With Josh? What's the problem if I go out with him?!"

"I told you what he accused me of," Nicholas replied, his tone deathly quiet. "Why would you even continue to associate with him? I thought we had an understanding..."

I rolled my eyes, so tired of men acting like women were just toys that they could play with whenever they saw fit. "Oh, yeah, Nicholas," I said, crossing my arms, "we have an understanding—an understanding where we fuck for fun," I replied, getting to my feet and pulling my shit together, not wanting to be confined to a room with him anymore that day. "I'm not your fucking girlfriend, and you need to stop treating me like I'm yours! I'm _not_ yours—I'm not anyone's! I belong to myself, because I'm fucking single!"

"I don't think you're my fucking girlfriend," Nicholas said, getting to his feet, looking worried that I was leaving the room. "I never said that..."

I sighed, not wanting him to give me that look, so I dropped my shit. Circling the desk then, I made a grab for his tie, before he smirked to himself. "Then stop fucking acting like you think so," I said, letting a giggle escape my lips as he turned me around quickly then, bending me over the desk without hesitation.

"I'm sorry," he said, getting the condom out of his pocket as I dropped my panties and hiked up my skirt. "You're right—I need to be more hands-off in this situation. Although," he said, putting himself inside me roughly then, causing me to cry out, "Josh is a fucking prick, and if I had it _my_ way," he went on, going deeper still, causing my eyes to roll back in my hand, "you would never be fucking near him."

I gripped onto the edges of the desk then, a moan escaping my lips. "You're fucking possessive, I mean, you know that, right?"

Nicholas chuckled, getting a steady rhythm going. "So I've been told."

"Don't possess me, Nicholas," I told him, my teeth gritted, so as to prevent myself from crying out and alerting everyone to what we were up to. "I'm not that kind of girl."

Nicholas hesitated for a moment, and I felt a sigh escaping my lips—I wanted him, and he knew it, and he was fully prepared to take advantage of that face. "Do you think you'll ever be that kind of girl, Murphy?"

I shrugged. "Fuck," I whispered, loving the feeling of him inside me. "I hope not. I don't like presenting myself as a vulnerable...being!" I said, nearly shouting the final word as he pressed me, hard, then.

"But what about with Josh?" Nicholas went on, and I felt another sigh of longing escaping my lips then. "Isn't it different with him?"

"Different?"

"Well, yeah. He's an adult who actually acts like an adult..."

I smirked, turning around to face Nicholas then. "So, you're readily admitting that you yourself do not act like an adult?"

Nicholas returned my smirk, pulling out of me, and I cursed myself when a cry came forth from somewhere deep within me, before he shoved himself, hard, back inside me. "I'd say I have my moments, Murphy. I have my moments."

I nodded my head in a sarcastic manner, turning away from him again, my hands still gripping the edges of the desk. "But why don't you want me spending time with Josh? It's not like we can just continue fucking forever..."

"Why not?" Nicholas asked. "I enjoy it. You enjoy it."

I scoffed. "I think you can tell just how much I enjoy it," I reply. "Fuck..." I whispered, gritting my teeth again when it hit a particularly sensitive nerve. "But, I don't know. It's so cliché, Nicholas, but doesn't one party usually develop feelings for the other? Or, in some extreme cases, both parties..."

Nicholas lifted me up by my shoulders suddenly then, his breath hot along my neck, as he kept a good grip upon my hips, allowing himself to stay inside me. "I don't think that'll be a problem, Murphy."

"Oh?" I asked, turning slightly, and finding that I slightly enjoyed the feeling of him tense up as I did so, our faces so close. "And why is that?"

Nicholas smirked then, moving me back down to the desk, almost as if he didn't want me so close to him, which I respected. "We're not each other's type."

I nodded. "Publicly, anyway..."

Nicholas laughed aloud at that. "You're right..."

"But, behind closed doors..." I began, lifting my shoulders in a shrug.

"Right, right..." Nicholas said.

I turned around again, stiffening then as the climax neared its peak. "Behind closed doors, any situation is possible," I replied.

. . .

I picked up Iana from her daycare that day, relieved that Ian had picked up Liam from school, and we drove home in virtual silence as Iana dozed in the back seat. Smiling to myself as we pulled up to the house, I grabbed my bag, throwing my phone into it as I got out, immediately going into the back seat and gathering up Iana and her bag in my arms. Kissing my daughter's forehead as we walked along, I locked the door behind us as I stepped into the front gate, though the yard, and up the stairs towards the house.

Letting myself inside, I smelled Ian cooking dinner from the kitchen as I stepped into the foyer, setting down the bags and hanging up our coats as I shut and locked the front door behind the two of us. "Hey," I called, stepping into the living room, Iana beginning to perk up a bit in my arms at seeing Ian.

Ian turned around immediately, grinning at Iana and smiling at me as he left what I thought was pasta sauce cooking on the stove. Crossing the room, he kissed me on the cheek before taking Iana from me, and I waved my arms around, thankful for the physical relief. "Good day?" he asked. "After that text exchanged after your lunch, I wasn't sure how it would pan out, but you look pretty relaxed..."

I smirked, not letting anything on. "Yeah. Well, let's just say that the research aspect of my job is definitely going well."

"Oh, yeah?" Ian asked, slipping Iana in her high chair. "How's that?"

I shrugged. "Oh, I'm pretty sure the son of a bitch is going to play the 'my mom died' card when we finally nail him," I replied, shrugging my shoulders. "I don't know. Mom dying, absent father, boarding school... So white privilege."

Ian tried not to laugh. "Um, I don't think that one parent dying and the other just shipping them off is white privilege."

I scoffed then, nodding my head. "Yeah, I better not use that in my opening argument," I replied, wondering how such a thing would go over.

"So, why didn't the lunch with Josh go well?" Ian asked, going into the pantry and getting out a box of pasta. "Was he a chauvinist pig or something?"

I shook my head. "No, nothing like that."

"Well, he must've done _something_..."

I wrinkled my lips then, wondering how to say so. "It wasn't something he did, but something he said, actually..."

"Yeah?" Ian asked, checking to see if the water was boiling, before pouring the box of pasta into its bubbling depths. "About who?"

"Not me," I replied, "or Iana..."

"Then...?"

"You," I said quietly.

"Me?" Ian asked, torn between laughter and seriousness. "What could Josh possibly have to say about me, Murph?"

I leaned onto the counter then, opposite him, staring down at my hands, not wanting to look at him when I said what I had to say next. "He mentioned that whole thing that went down with Yevgeny," I said quietly. "The whole catalyst thing..."

"How'd he hear about that?"

I looked up at him, and saw that Ian was no longer looking at me, but was stirring the pasta. "I guess doctors talk," I replied. "I assume he heard about it from someone, who told someone, or something..."

"Nobody can keep their mouths fucking shut anymore, I guess," Ian said, a bitter laugh escaping his throat then.

I sighed. "Look, I told him we weren't supposed to talk about it," I replied, and Ian turned to look at me. "I told him that we could discuss me and Iana, and that was it. He apologized," I went on then, "and even sent me a text later, apologizing to you."

"He knew you were going to tell me?"

I scoffed then. "Please. He knows you're like Iana's father, and that you're my best friend and my twin. He knows I tell you everything—I mean, we do run a house..."

Ian smiled a little at that. "Thanks."

I shrugged. "You're my brother. Nobody gets to talk shit about you except for me, Fiona, and Lip, because I'm your twin, and they're older."

"What about Debbie, Carl, and Liam?" he asked.

I laughed. "Well, I guess they can do it some of the time, but not Liam," I replied. "I don't know, I guess it'd be seen as insubordination or something..."

"Insubordination?" Ian asked.

I nodded, picking at the long sleeve of my sweater. "Well, sure..."

"Something wrong with it?" Ian asked, nodding to my fingers, deftly moving around the opening of the sleeve. "It doesn't have any wool in it, does it?"

I smirked, pleased that Ian remembered the sensitivity of my skin. "No. All cotton."

"Then, what are you hiding?" Ian asked.

I shrugged. "Something..."

"Can I see?"

Shrugging again, I rolled up my sleeve, revealing the white, taped-up portion of my left wrist, which Ian immediately reacted to. "It's not what you think."

"If Josh fucking did something—"

"Hey, relax," I said, rolling up the sleeve completely then and going closer to him. "It's not what you think—really," I assured him again, gently peeling away the bandage, and revealing to him the tattoo I'd gotten that day, after my tryst with Nicholas, and before I'd left work for the day to pick up Iana.

"You got ink?" Ian asked, grinning.

"Yeah," I replied, showing him the extent of it. It was beautifully done—in curved ink, the names of all of us Gallagher's were represented, starting with Fiona at the top, and ending with Liam at the bottom. Connected to Debbie's name was Franny's name, and connected to my name was Iana's name. "Do you like it?" I asked.

"It's like Fiona's the matriarch," Ian said quietly.

"She is," I replied simply. "The judge gave her custody of all of you, and, if I'd have been here, it would've been me, too," I said, running my hand along all the names. "We're all Gallagher's, Ian, but we're Fiona's kids. It may say Frank and Monica under parents on our birth certificates, but if the law says you were Fiona's, then that goes for me, too."

Ian smiled, pulling me into his arms for a hug. "She'll be thrilled when she sees it."

I smiled back. "I know, Ian. And now I can carry everyone with me, everywhere I go."


	3. Certifiable

Chapter Three: Certifiable

"Do you think this is something that someone can just get better at?"

I smirked at the notion behind it, zipping up the back of my latest knee-length black skirt with a flourish. "Hmmm?" I asked, moving my hair to one side so as Nicholas could do the single button of my blouse. "Sex, you mean?" I say quietly, ignoring the sensation that streamed across my skin as Nicholas gently brushed it whilst doing up the button.

"Yeah, sex," Nicholas replied. "I mean, I'm only the third guy you've been with, and the only person you've been with more than once."

I shrugged, hopping off the side of his desk and stepping back into my heels, knowing that I'd stayed too long in his office, as it was nearing lunchtime, and it was at the middle of our third week behaving this way. "While that is all true," I allowed, making a grab for my sweater, which had been discarded quickly when Nicholas had roughly taken it off me, "you know as well as I do that it can't last."

Nicholas nodded stiffly then, and I peered over my shoulder at him to be sure that he wasn't upset by this fact. "No, I know," he replied. "But, I've got to admit, these last three weeks have been fucking amazing, Murph..."

I scoffed then, buttoning my sweater, needing another barrier between us. "Yeah, they've been amazing, Nicholas—I know that, and you know that. But, the fact remains that we've all got lives to consider. We've got the firm to worry about, and our own parts to do. Plus I've got Iana and you've got Charlotte to help take care of..."

"And Josh?" Nicholas asks.

I sighed. "Nothing's been decided yet..."

"You spend at least two days a week having lunch with him, and then you call or text him pretty much every day..."

I rolled my eyes, becoming sick of the constant argument Nicholas and I continued to have with one another—no matter how good the sex was, Josh would inevitably be brought up, and everything would go to shit. "Look," I said, crossing my arms, "you're constant bringing him up doesn't help things, Nicholas."

"Doesn't help you, you mean."

"Stop it," I said, throwing up my hands. "You're acting like such a little kid! This jealousy has to stop, Nicholas, really..."

"Jealous?" he asked, scoffing as he got to his feet. "You think I'm jealous?"

"Well, you sure as shit act like you are," I replied, staying rooted to my spot as he continued stepping forward. "What am I supposed to think whenever you act so fucking threatened whenever you or I bring up Josh?"

Nicholas hesitated for a moment—the inner battle had begun, and it was almost as if he was emotionally fighting with himself to speak in such a way, to present his vulnerability to me. "I don't want him fucking near you, Murph," he said thickly. "I've said as much before, and I'll say it again. He's not good for you—for you, or for Iana..."

"Since when do you give a shit about my daughter?" I demanded then, my voice quiet. "I know you seem to like her, but liking someone and actually caring about their well-being are two totally different things. Besides, you hate kids..."

"Look, normally I do, okay? But Iana's different. She's _your_ kid, Murph."

"So?!" I demanded, throwing up my hands again. "What difference does it make if she's my kid or someone else's kid?"

"You're a good person, Murphy," Nicholas said, continuing to come closer to me. "I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you, or to Iana, or to anyone you care about..."

"Why?" I asked him, staring up at him, hating myself for allowing my voice to shake. "Why should any of this matter? We're not a couple, Nicholas—we're barely friends. We just fuck whenever it's convenient to us. You said as much to me in June—I don't mean a thing to you, and I'm all right with that."

"You really think, after everything, you mean nothing to me?"

I shrugged. "We don't mean anything to each other."

"Fuck, Murphy," Nicholas said, closing the final step of distance between us and yanking me to him then, and I threw my hands up a third time, confused as ever. His lips found mine instantly and parted my own, and I hated, hated, hated, that I allowed myself to momentarily go limp in his arms, to anchor my mouth to his, to taste him, as he tasted me—

"No!" I screamed then, shoving myself away from him. "That's not part of the agreement and you know it!" I cried out. "Purely physical without the standard intimacy of two adults in a sexual relationship! Just fucking is what we agreed to—just fun. These," I said pointing to my lips, "these are reserved for boyfriends only," I said, giving him a look of disgust before opening his office door and walking out.

. . .

I got Iana from daycare later on that afternoon; it was a Thursday, so Ian had already picked up Liam from school, so by the time I arrived home, Liam was upstairs doing his homework, and Ian was in the kitchen, baking something in the oven for dinner. I detected the scene of chicken as I stepped into the house, Iana in my arms, keeping her close to me as I walked into the kitchen without saying anything, before placing her into her high chair and merely leaning up against the counter, waiting for Ian to speak.

"Jesus, what happened to you?" Ian asked, kissing Iana's forehead before kissing mine, just before getting back to cooking. "You look like somebody ran over a puppy or something." He turned and looked at me then, suddenly concerned. "Did you run over a puppy?"

I shook my head, lowering my eyes and dashing the tears that came out of them away before Ian could see. "No," I replied.

"Hey, are you okay?" Ian asked, stepping forward and placing his hands on my shoulders. "Did something happen at work?"

I sighed, leaning my forehead on his shoulder. "Kind of," I said quietly.

"Yeah?" he asked. "Why don't you tell me?"

I sighed again, my shoulders slacking as I pulled back from him. "I've been seeing Josh in public for weeks now," I said quietly, "but, behind closed doors, I've been fucking Nicholas," I said quietly, not wanting Liam to hear upstairs, not to mention Iana, who was just a few feet away from the two of us.

Ian raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Pretty much..."

"Do you like him?"

"Nicholas?!" I demanded. "No. No fucking way," I said, pulling away from Ian at the very notion of it as I crossed my arms.

"Touchy subject?"

I scoffed then, running a hand through my hair. "I guess, yeah... He seems to forget about the agreement we made..."

"You made an agreement?"

"Yeah, about just having fun," I replied, crossing into the kitchen and fetching a bottle from the fridge, whereupon I picked up Iana, and carried her over to the couch. I lay her down in my lap and positioned the bottle accordingly, before looking up at Ian again.

"He's not adhering to the rules?"

"No—he's acting like a fucking control freak!" I replied, hunching my shoulders. "I don't know where this is coming from, really. I told him where we stood—it's like he thinks we're fucking boyfriend and girlfriend or something, without all the publicity attached to it. This isn't junior prom—it's real life; real, adult, life, and we made it clear we _don't_ have those kinds of feelings for each other."

"So, you're trying to tell me you don't have feelings for him?"

"No," I said, pushing the word out immediately, re-positioning the bottle so that Iana didn't choke on the milk. "Of course not. He's wrong for me, Ian, plus there's the fact that he hates kids and has a record..."

"Hates kids?"

"Well, not Iana, apparently," I reply, sticking my tongue out at his words from earlier. "He said something to the effect of, because she's my kid, he likes her..." I shrugged. "I don't know. I need to stop fucking him and focus on her," I say, nodding to Iana, "my job, and maybe my relationship with Josh..."

"That still happening?"

I sighed. "I don't know. I saw him for lunch yesterday, and he was as sweet as ever. Seemed a little preoccupied though..."

"Really?" Ian asked, walking back into the kitchen to check on dinner. "Well, I mean, he is a doctor, so he likely has patients to deal with..."

I nodded. "No, I know. I mean, they're important, of course. I just wish he could just be a little more present during our hour together. I mean, if something's so pressing, I'd rather he cut our time short than just sit there and not communicate, which forces me to pick up all aspects of the conversation, and then I feel like I'm talking too much..."

Ian smirked then, shaking his head as he pulled a chicken out of the oven, which I can see has been cooked surrounded by potatoes and carrots, and seasoned with herbs. "You do tend to talk too much..."

I scoffed at him, setting the bottle aside and putting the towel I'd brought with Iana onto my shoulder, whereupon I gently placed her there, and began patting at her back. "Stop being a dick for two seconds," I said. "This is serious."

"Hello!" came a call from the front door then.

"Hey, Trev!" Ian and I called at the same time as Trevor walked in.

"Hey," Trevor said, immediately gravitating over to Ian and kissing him, whereupon he turned around and came to me. "Hey," he said, holding out his arms for Iana.

"Careful," I said, handing him the towel. "She just ate, so...just in case," I said.

"Thanks for the tip," Trevor said, positioning her carefully in his arms. "So, what are we talking about now?"

"Oh, Murphy's fucking her boss's son," Ian replied.

"Hey!" I cried, throwing a pillow at him, which landed on the floor. "Shit," I said under my breath, getting up and making a grab for it, before returning it to the couch. "Not funny," I said, smacking it back into place.

"He any good?" Trevor asked.

I scoffed. "Yeah. But he's not following the rules."

Trevor laughed. "Sex at work has rules?"

"Damn right," I replied, walking into the kitchen and helping Ian set the table. "Can't tell you how many times I've had to hide the tops of my hands during work hours."

"Is he smacking your hands?!" Ian demanded.

"I think she means she's biting on them to keep from screaming," Trevor explained gently, with a smile in my direction. "He must be good."

I laughed, organizing the plates after Ian presented them to me. "Sure, I mean, if you're into that sort of thing..."

"A friends with benefits relationship?" Ian asked.

"Well, that," I say, gently taking Iana from Trevor and setting her in her day bed, just on the edge of the kitchen, "and if you like it rough."

"Like what rough?" Liam asked, having smelled dinner, and came downstairs. "What's so rough here?" he wanted to know, hugging my waist.

I locked eyes with Ian and Trevor then, and we did our best not to laugh aloud. "That's just something adults say when something's hard to deal with...like life," I tell Liam, putting an arm around him and leaning down to kiss his forehead.

Liam considered that for a moment, leaning his head onto my hip as he fully attempted to absorb what the adults around him were discussing. "Is our life rough, Murphy?"

"Not so much now," Ian replied, flashing me a smile as he brought the chicken towards the table, where he transferred it, the potatoes, and the carrots onto a platter. "Things look better for all of us now, Liam."

"Because of Murphy?" Liam asked, walking over to Iana's day bed, where she had peacefully fallen into a sleep-like state. "And Iana?"

I smiled, following him to guide him back to the table for dinner. "I like to think so," I replied, guiding him back to the table, where Ian and Trevor had already sat down. "I guess being surrounded by family makes things easier, and less rough," I added, sneaking looks at Ian and Trevor before sitting back to allow Ian to carve the chicken and to serve up dinner.

. . .

The following day, I dropped off Iana at daycare and Liam at school as per usual, although the second half of my day would be different. At two o'clock, I would be leaving work to take Iana to her four-month checkup, and then picking Liam up, whereupon I would go to Patsy's Pies to see Fiona, and then go shopping for the weekend. It was a relief to me, once I arrived at the firm, not to have to make small talk with Rachel and Cindy, and the pair of them seemed content just to wave and nod at me as I walked by.

Once I got to my office, I sent out an email to Hugo, Allie, and Nicholas, reminding them of my half-day, and that I would be staying in my office for its entirety, to complete some more research on Paul. Each of them fired back a reply, letting me know that they all remembered my half-day, and that they respected my decision to get some work done. I pulled out my lunch from my bag, putting it into the mini-fridge I'd had installed in my office, to ensure none of the things inside it would spoil, and got to work immediately.

It was getting close to noon when I received a text from Josh, much to my shock. _I noticed on Dr. Daisy Radclyffe's schedule that there's an Iana Gallagher scheduled for a wellness checkup, today at two o'clock_.

I smirked—it was a hell of a way to begin a conversation! _Yes, Dr. Daisy Radclyffe is Iana's personal pediatrician, so such a thing would make sense. What doesn't make sense is the fact that you are snooping through other doctor's patient notebooks_...

 _Understood. I just wanted to know if this means I'll be seeing you, or if it means that Ian is taking Iana to the appointment_...

I smiled like an idiot down at my phone. _Yes, you'll be seeing me today_ , I reply. _I am taking Iana to her appointment_.

 _Wonderful_ , Josh said. _See you then_.

When the appointed hour to leave came, I gathered my things to leave to pick up Iana for her wellness appointment. I left my office and walked through to Rachel and Cindy's area, waving to them both as I stepped into the lobby. True to my email, I'd remained in my office for the entirety of my day at the firm, and wasn't, thankfully, bothered by Nicholas. As I pressed the button, waiting for the elevator to come, I realized then that our relationship truly wasn't healthy, as ground rules seemed to be most unhelpful. I knew it was time to cut the cord, as he and I simply couldn't agree on where our boundaries were, and clearer rules wouldn't make any difference at all, I decided as the elevator arrived.

I stepped in, pressing the button to the parking garage and feeling instant relief when the doors shut behind me. Pulling out my phone, the time one-thirty stared back at me, and I was pleased at the knowledge that I had plenty of time to get Iana for her appointment. The elevator doors opened again, and I crossed the parking garage and towards my car, unlocking it automatically before getting inside. I set my things onto the passenger seat, sticking my keys into the ignition and pulling out of the parking lot, driving along the main road and finding the most appropriate way to Iana's daycare at that particular hour.

I sent a text to Ian just as I arrived outside the daycare, keeping him informed as I got out of the car and walked towards the building. Walking up the stairs and stepping inside, I spot Rebecca with Iana, who is putting her coat on and smiles as I approach. Immediately, I bend down and lift up Iana into my arms, kissing her forehead, and feel immediate relief when Iana responds to the affection by laying down her head on my shoulder.

"She had a great day today," Rebecca tells me, handing over Iana's back with a smile. "Only cried once, and that was just after we had to wake her up from a nap for a feeding."

"And she stopped?" I asked.

"After she saw the bottle," Rebecca said. "So, we'll see you Monday, bright and early, with Liam before school?"

I nodded. "Yes. Thank you," I replied, giving her a quick wave before making my way over to the door, and stepping outside into the almost-autumn air. I went down the stairs carefully and unlocked my car, getting Iana into the passenger seat before letting myself in the main door and driving towards the hospital.

Once we arrived, I gathered Iana and her bag into my arms, slipping my phone into my pocket as we walked into the main entrance. I somehow remembered where the pediatric unit was, and made my way to the proper floor, walking straight up to the desk, where a short line had formed in front of me. I kept a good grip on Iana, pleased that the line was moving in a timely manner, and, quite soon, my turn had come.

"Hi," I said when I approached the desk. "The appointment is for Iana Gallagher, at two o'clock, with Dr. Radclyffe."

"Of course," the receptionist replied, keying in the information to the computer.

"It's her four-month checkup," I said quietly.

"Thank you," she said, flashing me a smile. "And what is your relationship to this adorable little girl?" she asked.

"Her mother," I replied. "I'm Murphy Gallagher."

"Oh," the woman said, obviously shocked at my age, but continuing to type in the necessary information into the computer. "Dr. Radclyffe should be with you shortly."

"Thank you," I replied, moving over to the waiting area. I set Iana on my lap, her bag at my feet, and whipped my phone out of my pocket, spotting a text from Ian, who wished me luck on the forthcoming appointment.

The door in the waiting area I was in opened, and I looked up, spotting a young woman there with strawberry blonde hair and green eyes. "Murphy and Iana Gallagher?"

"Here," I said, feeling like an idiot as I shot my hand up into the air, before picking up Iana's bag and following the woman.

"I'm Daisy Radclyffe—please, feel free to call me 'Daisy'," said the woman, shaking my hand with a smile as we walked into the back area, and towards an exam room. "And this beautiful creature must be Iana."

I nodded. "That's right," I replied, stepping into the exam room.

"Well, you can get settled in over there," said Daisy as I put my things down on one of the two offered chairs, "while Iana and I get to know each other better," she went on, moving across the room and washing her hands before turning back around and holding out her hands. "Don't worry—I won't have to leave the room at all."

"All right," I replied, kissing Iana's forehead before handing her over.

"All right—let's get your height and weight checked, little lady," Daisy said with a smile, and brought Iana to the exam table, where she stripped her of everything, save for her diaper. "And over to the scale we go," she said, tickling Iana underneath the chin, which made her squeal with delight and kick her legs. "Weight looks like fourteen pounds—well within normal range for a four-month old," Daisy informed me. "And height... Twenty-four inches. You are perfect," she informed her, tickling her belly this time, which made Iana smile. "And head circumference looks like fifteen inches. Beautiful," she said, bringing her back to me and handing her over without fuss. "I'm just going to jot these down, and then we'll do her round of vaccinations," she said, turning towards the computer, and pulling up her file. "Is Iana a family name?"

"Kind of," I said, shushing Iana in my arms with another forehead kiss. I stared down at my daughter for a moment, seeing that she was displeased with my efforts to shush her, and I felt my stomach flip over when I saw Mickey staring back at me. "My twin brother's name is Ian, so I suppose it's a female variation of that..."

"Oh, that's lovely," Daisy said, looking over her shoulder at me for a moment before turning back to her computer. "You're close with him, then?"

"We live together," I replied. "And with our youngest sibling, Liam."

"Is it just the three of you then? Three Gallagher siblings?"

I laughed aloud. "No. There were six, but I was the seventh member, after we found out that Ian had a twin—me," I said. "There's Fiona, then Lip, then Ian, me, Debbie, Carl, and Liam," I said then, feeling proud at having such a large family.

"And you're the first one to have a child?"

I shook my head. "No. My sister, Debbie, has a daughter named Franny. Franny's almost four years old now."

"Oh. Debbie must've been a baby..."

"She's nineteen," I reply.

"I see," Daisy said, finishing up with putting in the information before turning back to me, the various needles in her hands. "We've got two shots, and an oral. Think you can hold onto her for me while I administer them?"

I nodded, feeling guilty at the notion of Iana in pain. "No problem," I replied.

"Okay," Daisy said, stepping forward, a stick in one hand, and two of the needle vaccinations in the other. "We're going to be very quick about this, Murphy. All right?"

I nodded. "All right."

"Okay," she said again, coming towards me. She promptly put both vaccines into Iana's right arm, and Iana squirmed in my arms and cried out each time. "Perfect," she said, ready with a band aid for both areas. She then administered the oral vaccine, which Iana made a face at, but nevertheless accepted it. "Wonderful," she said, taking Iana's hand in hers. "You were very brave this afternoon, little lady."

I was then permitted to re-dress Iana, and did my best to wipe her eyes and to comfort her. I said goodbye to Daisy, who informed me that Iana may be a bit drowsy later, but it wasn't anything to be concerned about. I left the exam room then, walking down the hallway and towards the exit to the waiting room. I heard a set of hurried footsteps behind me then and I quickly moved to get out of the way, but a hand on my arm stopped my movements.

"Murphy."

Turning, I smiled automatically at seeing Josh standing there. "Josh. Hi."

"Hey," he said. "Can we walk?"

"Um," I said, fishing my phone out of my pocket. "I have to pick up my brother from school at three o'clock, and it takes fifteen minutes to get there..."

"Let me walk you to your car then," he said. "Please."

I nodded. "Okay," I said.

"How was Iana's visit?" he asked, falling into step beside me.

I smiled at that, positioning her so that she was between us. "Fine. I think she liked Dr. Radclyffe, so that's something."

"Dr. Radclyffe say there were any areas for concern?" Josh asked, opening the door to the waiting room and allowing me through it first.

I shook my head. "No. She said that Iana might be drowsy later, but that it would be a side affect from the vaccines she got today."

"Yeah. Yeah, that can happen," Josh said, walking with me down the corridor and towards the main entrance, where outside I'd parked my car. "Listen, I know you've noticed how distracted I've been these last couple of weeks..."

"Josh, really it's fine—thank you," I said, when he opened the door to the outside for me. "But, as of right now, we're just friends. I know you have a busy lifestyle—hell, mine's just as busy, what with my case load and taking care of Iana and the rest of my family..."

"Yes, I know," Josh said, looking up and seeing that my car was parked close by, "and I'm so happy that you understand, Murphy, really, but..."

"Look, you don't have to explain yourself," I said gently, unlocking my car automatically as we stepped towards it. I opened the back door then, gently taking Iana from my chest and placing her into her car seat. "I may not be a doctor, but I've read enough medical textbooks in my free time to know how fucking hard you guys have it..."

"Murph," Josh said, and something about the tone of his voice made me hesitate for a moment, before I turned around to face him. "Why do you or all people have to be so goddamn forgiving all the time?" he asked me then, dragging his hand through his hair.

I let out a short burst of laughter then, shrugging my shoulders. "I don't know. I guess I was born that way."

"After all the hell you went through," Josh said, staring into my eyes, "I can't imagine why you can be this way."

I smiled up at him then. "Well, maybe I considered now and again how people wanted to be treated, and just went from there."

"No wonder you're such a good mother," Josh said, looking down at Iana.

"Yeah?" I asked, following his eyes. "You think so?"

"I do," he replied. "You're kind, considerate, respectful, not afraid to throw a punch when it's necessary..."

I grinned. "That's the Gallagher way," I replied.

"...but you're also intelligent and sexy and...beautiful."

I turned and looked at him then, feeling my eyebrows raising. "Beautiful?" I asked him. "Did you just say I'm beautiful?"

Josh nodded. "Of course. You're gorgeous."

I shook my head then, lowering my eyes. "And you've seen my haggard and pregnant, and with a broken jaw..."

He reached out then, tilting my chin up. "There was a fire in your eyes on every occasion, Murphy, one that I just couldn't let go of."

"You couldn't?"

"No," he said quietly. "And it's not something I want to let go of."

I found I was smiling again. "What are you saying, Josh?"

"I'm saying I want to go out—out-out, on a real date, with you," he replied. "I want to make actual date night plans, and go out and discuss everything that you agree can be on the table. I'm tired of hiding behind what societal norms are, Murphy, because, let's face it, neither of us is normal. I'm saying I like you, and I hope you like me, too..."

"Josh," I said gently, reaching out and covering his lips with my hand. "You don't have anything to worry about, okay?" I tell him, removing my hand from his mouth. "I like you," I tell him, and close the distance between us to kiss him.

"So... Dinner?" Josh asked.

I gave him a half-smile then. "I'll consider it," I reply, turning around and making sure that Iana was all strapped in. I blow Josh a kiss as I get back into my car, relieved that it is only just after two-thirty, which is good, because I've neglected to grab my latest research on Paul Farris. I drive back to the firm like a madwoman, getting back into my parking space and grabbing Iana out of the back, whereupon I dash back upstairs. As I enter the lobby, I spot Cindy at her desk, but not Rachel, and I shrug it off. "Cin," I say, stepping forward, "could you watch Iana for five minutes? I left something in my office..."

"No problem," Cindy said, smiling at me and opening her arms. "Hi, sweetheart," she said, and distracted Iana with a couple of the Beanie Babies on her desk.

"Thanks!" I said, running back towards my office. I ran inside, grabbing the folder I'd accumulated of the research and stepped out again, switching off the light and shutting the door behind me.

"Nicholas, I _hardly_ think that's work appropriate."

My ears prick up at that and, turning, I see the door to the staff lounge is open, and see that Rachel and Nicholas are standing dangerously close together. Gripping the folder in my hands as I step forward, I plaster a smile on my face as I step into the lounge. "Hey, guys," I say, and Nicholas immediately pulls away from Rachel, and Rachel flushes pink. "Rachel, Cindy is busy playing with Iana in the lobby..."

"Iana?!" Rachel squealed, immediately pleased for the distraction, and ran from the room, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor.

"Something wrong?" Nicholas asked, smirking.

I shrugged. "Why would something be wrong?"

"You look like you've seen a hurricane or something..."

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "Don't flatter yourself."

Nicholas raised his eyebrows. "Really? We're going to play that game?"

I glared at him. "A game? What game?" I demand, firing off my questions in an annoyed tone of voice. "I'm not playing any games, Nicholas."

He rolled his eyes back at me. "Yeah. Just keep telling yourself that."

I shake my head at him. "Look, I'm not telling myself anything so that I can sleep at night," I reply, my tone clipped. "You're the one who constantly wants to control who I can and can't see—I'm not doing that."

"Oh? Then why did you interrupt me and Rachel just now?"

I scoff then, moving to turn around. "Yeah, no. Rachel loves seeing Iana," I tell him, my tone condescending this time. "I hardly think that's a motive for anything..."

"Keep telling yourself that, Murphy."

"Telling myself what?" I demanded, turning myself, full-force, towards him then, as I narrow my eyes at him. "What do you want me to tell myself? Or, better yet, what do you want me to tell you, Nicholas? That I'll just acquiesce to your every whim and not see Josh anymore? Because, like it or not, he asked me out today."

The plastic cup of water that Nicholas had been holding suddenly splintered in his hands then, and as the plastic cut him, I immediately gasped aloud then, throwing the file folder onto the desk beside me, and making a grab for a paper towel. "Fuck!" Nicholas cried out when I grabbed his wrist, inspecting the cuts.

"Jesus, Nicholas—what the hell is the matter with you?!" I hissed through my teeth, picking out the pieces of plastic.

"Just admit it," Nicholas replied.

"Admit what?!" I demanded, wrapping his hand in the paper towel and throwing away the pieces of plastic. I dove under the counter then, finding a first aid kit, and getting out rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, and band aids. "What should I admit to this time, Nicholas?"

"That you don't want anything more with me," Nicholas replied, stiffening as I drew back the paper towel, and dabbed at his hand with the rubbing alcohol. "Once and for all, Murphy, admit that you're fine with just fucking me."

"Oh, I am more than fine with just fucking you," I replied without hesitation. "There—all better," I said, putting on the band aids onto his cuts and turning back towards the sink. "Now, if you could stop acting like a fucking pussy for two seconds, that would really be wonderful, Nicholas. Wonderful."

"Whatever," Nicholas replied, leaving the room.

I sighed, the warm water getting his blood off my hands quickly, and as I washed them, I thought of Nicholas's dejected tone, and forced any kind of emotion for him out of my system. I dried my hands after washing them, before making a grab for the file folder and returning to the lobby, where Cindy was still watching Iana. Thanking her, I turned to leave then, feeling something flow through me then when I spotted Nicholas and Rachel together again—she was clasping his hand in a moment of comfort, and she was looking up at him longingly.

Shaking my head as I walked towards the elevator, I pulled out my cell phone, keeping a good grip upon Iana as I did so. I dialed Josh's number and waited, just as I waited for the elevator to arrive, and, when it did, I got Josh's voicemail.

"Hey, it's Josh. Can't come to the phone right now. Leave me a message, and I'll call you back as soon as I can. Thanks—bye!"

"Hey, Josh, it's Murphy," I replied, just loud enough for Nicholas and Rachel to hear, but not being overtly loud. "Listen, just wanted to say something about that little question you asked me earlier," I continued, feeling relieved as the elevator doors shut. "I'd love to go out with you, Josh," I said softly into the phone. "Call me back when you can so we can pick a day that works for both our schedules. Bye!" I said, hanging up.


	4. The Stages of Grief

Chapter Four: The Stages of Grief

I get up when my alarm blares at six-thirty, which causes Iana to stir immediately thereafter. I shove my comforter aside and get up and out of bed, flipping on the light and crossing over towards her crib. I lift her effortlessly, putting her onto the changing table and taking her out of her sleep onesie. Once I ascertain that a clean diaper is in order, I whip it off and clean her, before replacing it with a clean one. I then lean down and kiss her forehead, preoccupying her as I sanitize my hands and select an outfit for her that day.

Autumn had officially begun over the weekend, and now Iana could officially dig into her autumn wardrobe—supplemented by me for the last several weeks. I grabbed a pair of brown leggings, as well as a long-sleeved brown dress, for her to wear, along with a pair of brown baby Mary Jane shoes. Once I got her dressed, I lay her down on the center of my bed, digging into my closet and finding a black dress, tights, heels, and a sweater for myself to wear. I dressed quickly, not wanting Iana to take a fall off her bed, before replacing the provisions in her baby bag and gathering my own things. Once the important documents on the Farris case were organized accordingly, I put them in my own bag, before putting both bags over my shoulder and carrying Iana in my arms as I headed downstairs.

"Morning," I called as I entered the kitchen, putting the bags onto the couch and trooping into the kitchen. I kissed Liam's forehead and put Iana in her highchair, heading to the fridge to get out a bottle for her. "Good night?" I asked Ian as he sipped a cup of coffee. "You and Trev were out pretty late..."

"Yeah, fine," Ian replied, scrolling through his phone.

"Something interesting?" I asked, getting a couple cereal bars down from the cabinet for my breakfast before crossing back to Iana. I sat in front of her and positioned her bottle accordingly, and I smiled as she attempted to reach up and grab it herself.

Ian shrugged. "Just checking traffic reports. If there's a big accident, I'll probably end up being called in early..."

"Good to be prepared," I put in, turning to regard Liam. "Smaller bites, little man—we don't want you choking."

Liam grinned. "Okay," he replied, taking smaller bites.

"Hey, it's Monday, right?" Ian asked.

I sat up straighter in my chair, knowing it would be easier on my back if I made an attempt to sit correctly while assisting Iana with her morning feed. "Yeah. Why?"

"Good, just wondering," Ian replied. "It's a day where you take Liam to school and drop off Iana at daycare..."

I nodded. "Per our agreement," I replied. "Of course, we also agreed to open up the negotiation of Liam getting himself to school, once he starts middle school..."

"Maybe," Ian said, looking unsure. "It's not the same as it was when we did it..."

I smirked. "Hey, the public transportation system in Seattle wasn't all bad. If you got a good route for your day, it worked out pretty well..."

Ian laughed. "I always thought you'd be a part of a carpool..."

"You would think so," I replied, giving up with Iana and taking her out of her high chair again, grabbing a towel from the counter and draping it across my lap. "But carpools," I went on, laying her down, her bottle in her mouth, "were for children with friends."

"You really didn't have any friends?"

"Uh, no," I replied, rolling my eyes, for before I reached the age of twenty-one, I'd barely had a normal interaction with anyone. "I was that freak who read _Tort_ and constantly wanted to be left alone. I was the very definition of anti-social. I didn't receive _it_ until I was twenty-one. I didn't have a drink until I was twenty-one, or a cigarette." I shrugged my shoulders, looking down at Iana for a moment. "I didn't realize that I could have a baby until I was twenty-one..."

"Seems that, moving back here, got you some pretty good experiences."

I looked up at Ian. "Well, yeah. I found my family, and found that piece of myself I constantly thought was missing over the years... It's a good feeling, I think."

Ian nodded then, setting his phone aside and reaching across the table, stealing one of the cereal bars I'd pulled from the cabinet. "And your weekend?"

"What about my weekend?"

"Lots of late-night conversations starting on Friday," he said, a wry smile appearing on his lips as I shook my head at him. "Something you want to talk about?"

"No."

"Really?"

I bit my lower lip, raising one of my shoulders, as I often did when I was unsure of how to bring up something. "I... I mean, I may have... I mean, Josh, he... Josh and I ran into each other on the day of Iana's appointment."

"Oh," Ian said, chewing. "Really?"

"Yeah...and he may have finally asked me out..."

Ian stopped chewing for a moment. "That's fantastic!"

"And I told him I'd think about it, and then I had to run back to the office," I said, sighing as I remembered what had happened.

"Nicholas still there?"

"Yep," I replied. "And boy, when he found out, it messed him up..."

"What do you mean?"

"Um..." I said, turning to look at Liam, who was just finishing his cereal. "Liam, why don't you run upstairs and read a little bit before school, okay, sweetie?"

"Okay!" Liam trilled, getting to his feet and putting his cereal bowl and spoon into the dishwasher, before heading upstairs.

"He slashed his hand all up in a plastic water cup," I replied, and Ian's eyes widened at the rather shocking behavior. "He was beyond angry when Josh came up, and when I told him I said yes to going out with him."

"What did you do?"

"Well, I found a first-aid kit and cleaned him up," I said quietly, looking down and seeing that Iana had just finished her bottle, whereupon I transferred the towel to my shoulder, and raised her up to burp her. "It's what any good person would do, really... And then, as I was leaving, I saw him with Rachel again..."

"Again?"

"They may have been in the staff lounge together...and I got Rachel to leave by telling her that Iana was there," I said quietly, gently rubbing Iana's back. "And so, when I left, I told Josh that I'd go out with him. I mean, I know admittedly it looks like I did it because I was jealous of Rachel and Josh, but..."

"But what?"

I shrugged, getting to my feet and putting Iana in her day bed. "Oh, I don't know. I mean, I know deep down that Josh deserves a shot, at least. He's a perfect gentleman, and he doesn't have a record, and he likes Iana..."

"You sound like a broken record, Murph."

I sighed, getting to my feet again and returning to sit across from Ian. "Well, I guess it's also because sex hasn't complicated things with us," I replied. "I mean, something always happens with someone I sleep with..."

"For example?" Ian asked, amused.

I scoffed. "Well, Dr. Normal caught me with Jessica. Lip and I turned out to be brother and sister. Mickey was your ex and he's as gay as they come. And with Nicholas..." I leaned back against the chair and stared up at the ceiling. "He's anything but a gentleman, and there's a record of assault in his past, and I can't risk that, not with Iana..."

"But do you like him?"

"I like Josh," I said, turning to look at him then, my voice firm. "I like Josh, and he and I are figuring out our schedules for a first date."

Ian nodded. "Who are you trying to convince, Murph?"

I blinked, picking up the remnants of my cereal bar and biting off another section. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean, who are you trying to convince about you liking Josh? Me or you?"

I lowered my eyes. "I don't have to convince anyone. I like him, and he likes me, and I'm going to go out with him, and that's that."

. . .

I arrived at the firm after dropping off Iana at daycare and Liam at school, having just enough time to get hot teas for Rachel and Cindy that morning. Stepping into the lobby and then to the assistant area, I handed over the teas, grinning at them both. Cindy was taking a phone call, so she merely thanked me, but Rachel handed over my messages with a flourish, apparently thinking I was in the mood to speak that day.

"Good weekend?" she asked.

I nodded, digging my hair out of the collar of my coat. "Amazing," I replied, sipping at my hot chocolate, which was still hot. "Lots of late night phone calls..."

"Oh, yeah?" Rachel wanted to know, sipping her tea.

I nodded, leaning in closer. "Josh, that doctor I told you about?"

"Yeah?" Rachel asked, grinning.

"Well, he asked me out on Friday," I replied, "just after Iana's appointment."

"Finally!" she cried.

I nodded. "Yeah, finally," I said.

"Well, did you say yes?"

I laughed then, not caring about my volume, for once. "I did," I replied. "I said yes, and our first date is next Tuesday. He just texted to confirm this morning."

Rachel clapped her hands. "Murphy, I'm so happy for you!"

"Thank you," I replied, checking the time. "Oh, I'd better head to my office. As you know, I have a few calls to make," I tossed over my shoulder, waving to her before heading down the hallway and into my office.

I opened the door and flicked on the lights, shutting the door behind me and making my way over towards my desk. Setting my things down, I texted Ian and Josh, letting them know I'd gotten to the firm all right that morning and was very busy until lunch, but that I could possibly squeeze in a few texts during that time. I put my lunch into my mini-fridge, planning on a labor-intensive workout that day—I had managed to find out information about the early life of Paul's wife, Pamela, and about her situation in becoming a member of the Farris family.

I cross-checked my references countless times over the next three hours, making sure that everything would be in good order before I sent it to Nicholas to add it to our case file. As I worked, I kept my head down and eyes focused, only taking a half-an-hour break for lunch at around twelve-thirty. As I was leaving the office at three, I wanted to get all of Pamela's early life together—back when she was only Pamela Greene—and discovered quite a few interesting things about the Farris family.

There was a girl in the media—called Tabitha St. James—who had told her social media platforms more than once that she had been a child Pamela Farris. Tabitha had been given up for adoption at the age of ten, for no reason, and I wondered why that was. I went into a web search, Googling Tabitha, and wanting to get to the bottom of why she was rejected from the family after a solid decade.

"Hey, guys, Tabby here," Tabitha said, as she did at the beginning of all her videos. "I wanted to tell you about my birth family, as it has been told to me. According to some records, it seems as though I'm the biological daughter of Johnson and Pamela Farris, making me the younger sister of Paul Farris, and the aunt of Jackie Farris. I don't really know the circumstances that surround my birth or conception, just my birth certificate, which lists Johnson and Pamela as my father and mother respectively. Suffice it to say that my journey into my self-discovery is not over, and once I have information, I'll share it with you. Thanks guys. Bye!"

Immediately, I grabbed my cell phone and pulled up the number for the firm's private investigator, knowing that we had to take this plunge. "This is Murphy Gallagher," I said into the phone, once they had picked up.

"How may I help you, Miss Gallagher?"

"I want all the information you can get on the internet celebrity, Tabitha St. James," I replied, not wanting to sound too eager.

"Sure," they replied.

"They claim to be the daughter of our murdered client, and that their mother is the mother of the triggerman," I said quietly.

"Can do, Miss Gallagher. Shall I make contact at any time?"

"Not until we have all the necessary information. Nicholas Blomqvist and I will decide from there if making contact is necessary. If this is just a hoax for views, then, of course, no contact will be necessary, although we will issue a cease and desist."

"Of course, Miss Gallagher. Shall Mr. Blomqvist be privy to this?"

"No," I replied. "If, as I said, it turns out to be a hoax, he doesn't need to know."

"Understood. I'll begin my search today, and let you know if I find out anything by the end of this week, or by early next week."

"That will be fine. Thank you."

"Have a good day, Miss Gallagher."

"You, too," I reply, hanging up.

I kept at my work, counting down the minutes until I had to pick up Liam and Iana again, and for me to return home. Since I'd accomplished such a big shopping trip over the weekend, I wouldn't have to go to the store again until the following day, or Wednesday, which was a giant relief to me. I'd decided to make some form or other of casserole that night, and Fiona was coming over to help with Iana and to stay for dinner, as Ian was working late, so that, in itself, was something to look forward to.

It was after two when I heard footsteps outside my office, and then suddenly my door came open then, and I immediately got to my feet, Nicholas standing there. He hesitated for a moment before he shut the door behind himself, and he looked as if he was unsure of what to say. He stood his ground as I walked around my desk then, knowing that, ultimately, there shouldn't be anything between us any longer—physically or emotionally.

"What is it?" I asked, breaking the silence.

He sighed. "Talked to Rachel."

"Yeah?" I asked, gripping the edge of my desk. "How'd that go?"

"She..." He stopped for a moment, obviously trying to calm himself down, and not to yell at me, as he so liked to do. "She said you told Josh you'd go out with him."

I found myself automatically pulling my bottom lip into my mouth, feeling immediately ill at ease with the situation. "Well, you were going to hear it eventually..."

"Oh, Jesus, Murphy!" Nicholas said, dragging his hands through his hair. "Come the fuck on right now! Are you serious?!"

I sighed. "I told you it was going to happen, Nicholas."

"Yeah, but I never expected it to..." He broke off then, raising his eyes to mine. "How do you feel about him?"

I shrugged. "I like him, I guess..."

"No, you don't," he replied.

I scoffed then, looking away from him. "Look, if you came in here to spout some bullshit about me being incapable of having feelings..."

"I don't think you're incapable of having feelings, Murphy—that's not what I meant," he replied, sounding slightly annoyed. "I mean, I don't think you're capable of having feelings for him—for Josh. I mean, of all people, you had to go out with him."

"We haven't gone out yet, Nicholas. The official date is set for next Tuesday."

"After everything I told you..."

"Look, it doesn't have anything to do with me!" I cried, turning back to look at him. "And besides, you're busy getting into Rachel's pants... And what about Jasmine?!" I demanded, advancing upon him then. "You were in a relationship with her! How come you can go out with people and I can't?!"

Nicholas stiffens at my closeness to him. "I wouldn't care if you went out with anyone, Murphy—anyone—except for Josh. He's the only person I have an opinion about."

"Well, he's the only guy who's asked me out, and I said yes," I said, wondering why I was standing this close to him, due to our mutual volatility. "So, you shouldn't care. We need to keep our private lives private, Nicholas. Don't you think?"

Nicholas stared at me for a moment. "Is that what you want?"

I felt myself swallowing then, attempting to disengage from the conversation, but found that I couldn't, because it was him. "What do you mean?"

"Do you want to keep public and private separate?" he asked.

I felt myself flush, averting my eyes quickly. "If you're implying that you want to keep our privates separate, Nicholas, then I think that's for the best."

"Thinking something's for the best and actually wanting it are two totally different things, as I'm sure you know, Murphy."

I feel my heart beating in my ears, although I still refuse to look up at him. "And how would you know what I want, Nicholas?"

"I know your body, Murphy," Nicholas replied, and it was in that moment that I locked my eyes to his, as my breathing accelerated. "I know it gives off signals, and it's telling me right now that you want me."

I incline my head then, always ready for a challenge, and curious to know if he actually knew all he claimed to know. "Prove it," I replied.

Nicholas grabbed me then, turning me around and taking me immediately towards my desk, laying me down across it as I gasped at his quick movements. It was a relief when I heard him digging into his pocket for a condom, and I felt relief as he allowed me to move my hands and yank down my skirt and panties on my own. Then, oh, sweet mercy, then, he allowed himself to toy with me momentarily before he slipped deliciously inside me.

Instantly, I made a grab for the edges of my desk, turning my face into it to muffle my cries of ecstasy of what he was doing to me. I felt my toes curl as he continued his rhythm, trying to remember how to breath as I counted to ten in my head, then back to one, and, finally, to ten again, which is when the blissful climax occurred. I slumped against my desk for a moment before bending down and yanking up my panties and skirt, trembling at the impact of what the two of us had just done.

Shakily, I turned and walked over to the door, only opening it after Nicholas had organized himself again. "Thank you for your discussions on that matter, Nicholas," I said, trying to keep myself from raising my voice too much. "I will definitely consider it from your point of view and get back to you later."

"See that you do, Murphy," Nicholas replied, smiling at me before departing my company, leaving me to pick up the pieces—literally and figuratively.

. . .

Try as I might, I could not block the following week from my mind as Josh and I finally went out on our first date, on the first of October. Josh was a perfect gentleman—he showed up at the house at the proper hour, and greeted Ian. He brought me a bouquet of roses, which I put into a vase in the kitchen. Josh assured Ian—who, along with Trevor, who would arrive shortly after I left—that he wouldn't have me out too late. Ian did the mock-reluctance tactic, watching as Josh helped me into my coat, but smirked as he kissed me on the cheek.

"Careful with this one," he muttered to me.

"Oh, shut up," I said, playfully shoving him away from me, before Josh took my arm and led me outside to his Lincoln.

"Chez Jo _ë_ l," Josh explained as we got into the car and drove off, "is a lovely French bistro that I discovered one night after I saved my first child."

"Saved your first child?" I asked as we drove through the dark.

"Yeah. Hattie," Josh said with a smile. "She wasn't breathing, but I was about to resuscitate her, and I just went for a drive after my shift was over. I found Chez Jo _ë_ l and it was an amazing experience and I'm never going to forget that night..."

I smiled to myself, pleased at the notion that Josh had saved lives. When we arrived at the restaurant, Josh insisted that we talk about me, and I was relieved when he didn't order an expensive bottle of wine, or drink himself. We just sipped water and talked about our lives, and I even gave him the PG-rated abridged version of my upbringing. Josh was sympathetic, and held my hand during the particularly difficult moments of the story, and I found myself relieved that I could actually talk to him.

We both ordered the steak frites, and I discovered the taste of garlic butter for the first time that night, and found I enjoyed it more than most things. A few times, however, when Josh wasn't looking, I found my mind drifting back to the last several days. My office, the conference room, Nicholas's office—they had all become bases for Nicholas's and my trysts. This time, we'd established that, of course, there were places that were off-limits. For example, even if Hugo and Allie were out for the day, the risk factor was too much to attempt anything in their offices. The staff lounge was also too great a risk, due to the fact that the paralegals and other department attorneys could come in at any time.

For the moment, only those three rooms were acceptable, although the notion that we could get caught in a compromising position was more frightening. I was shocked when Nicholas informed me that he thought the very idea of getting caught was a turn-on. However, as the days had gone by—and my focus on other tasks failed miserably—I found that such a thing was intoxicating to think about. Even now, as I sat across from Josh and attempted to listen as he told me how much he'd wanted to be a doctor growing up—especially after his brother, Desmond, had quit being a surgeon and gone back to school to become a lawyer—he'd really come into his own. Although Desmond seemed to always be the favored son, he felt he was on his way to succeeding in that title, and even though I found I was fighting to listen to him—holding my legs together to prevent any form of excitement from becoming an out-of-body experience—I did my best to smile and nod at his words.

I found that having a baby at home was as good an excuse as any for not ordering dessert, and so Josh agreed to drive me home around eight-thirty. Surprised that I'd managed to keep up my side of the conversation for so long, he drove me home, and I allowed him to hold my hand during the drive itself. Once we arrived back at the house, Josh circled his car and let me out, before walking me through the gate and up the stairs.

"You were quiet tonight."

I smiled up at him. "Sorry. All a bit nerve-wracking, I guess."

Josh smirked. "Do I frighten you, Murphy?"

"Frighten?" I asked him, the word ending on a laugh. "No. No, of course not. I mean... I guess you could say I've never been on a date-date."

Josh raised his eyebrows. "Never?"

I shook my head at him. "No. I mean... Well, you know, where the guy calls a girl and arranges everything...and, oh, my god, I just made this entire conversation heteronormative and I don't even have wine to blame it on. What is the matter with me?"

"You can blame it on exhaustion," Josh said with a laugh. "I do it all the time whenever I inadvertently slip into heteronormative territory."

I laughed then, looking away from him for a moment. "I don't know. I never really liked labels, even before..."

"Before?"

"Well, I... I _guess_ you could make a case for me being bisexual, because of my first relationship with Jessica. Turns out," I said, fidgeting there with my keys, "that therapy is a beautiful thing. It came out in therapy that I was in love with her."

Josh nodded. "Ever think about her?"

"Oh, sometimes," I replied, shrugging my shoulders as I considered her for a moment. "I mean, we're friends on social media."

"What's she up to these days?"

"She's a writer for Vanity Fair," I replied. "Studied journalism on the side and ended up leaving college early when the opportunity came up. Worked her way up as an intern..."

"Do you miss her?"

I sighed. "I don't know. I guess I don't really think much about her," I said quietly, leaning up against the side of the house. "Ever since Dr. Normal walked in on us, I closed myself off from social interaction more than ever... Guess it was just my own personal way of coping."

"Do you wish you were still together?"

I smiled to myself then. "No. Because I don't think it would've worked."

"Why's that?"

I laughed aloud then as I considered it. "I don't know. Maybe because the idea of eating pussy terrified me," I reply, and Josh laughed as well. "I mean, I fucked her, but I'd never let her fuck me, per say. She could put her mouth on me, but fucking me? I drew the line there, and, after a while, she accepted it."

Josh smiled. "Well, I'm glad you know."

"Yeah?" I asked. "Why's that?"

"Because, I'd like to take you out again, Murphy. If that's okay."

I smiled up at him, the only thing illuminating the two of us being the porch light. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I'd like that," I reply, stepping towards him, and putting my arms around his neck. "When would you like this to happen, sir?"

"Well..." Josh began, when the door suddenly opened.

I dropped my arms from Josh then, and crossed my arms. "What the fuck are you doing in there, Frank?!" I demanded.

"Kids are upstairs," he replied, turning to Josh. "And who are you?"

"Josh Fairfax, pediatric doctor. Who are you?"

Frank belched, and I felt myself immediately coloring with rage. "Frank Gallagher—father of this one over here," he replied, gesturing to me.

"Jesus, Frank," I said, turning to Josh. "Look, I'm sorry..."

"Hey, it's cool," Josh replied, keeping a wary eye on Frank as he kissed me on the cheek. "I'll call you later, okay?"

"Yeah," I replied, watching him go before turning to Frank. "Look, Ian is going to lose his shit if he sees you in there..."

Frank shrugged. "Free country."

"Shut the fuck up," I replied, letting myself in and shoving him out. "This is not your house anymore, so go and find another one and be an asshole somewhere else," I said. "And if I ever catch you in the same building as my daughter again, I will be the one losing my shit," I said, my voice firm as I slammed the door behind me.

. . .

I arrived at the office on Wednesday morning, feeling annoyed that Frank had come in and ruined everything, but pleased that Josh had circled around to the back door, giving me incentive to kiss him goodnight. I was aware that Cindy was taking a sick day that day as I walked into the office, handing over a tea to Rachel, and smiling at her, and she took my smile to mean that something was up. I hesitated for a moment, wanting the feeling of mutual excitement to sink in to the atmosphere for a moment before I spoke.

"Had my date with Josh last night."

"How'd it go?" Rachel asked.

I grinned. "Well, after Frank," I said, rolling my eyes for dramatic effect, as Rachel knew all too well about the issues surrounding my biological father, "decided to step in and attempt to ruin everything, Josh drove around to the back door."

"Yeah?"

"I kissed him goodnight!" I said.

Rachel grinned. "Murphy, that's great!" she cried.

I smiled. "Well, I think so," I said. "Any messages today?"

"Yeah. Here," she said, handing them over. "Oh, and Allie called. Said she wanted to see you in her office about something, first thing."

I nodded. "Thanks," I said, giving her a perplexed look as I made my way down the hallway. I tapped on Allie's office door, and she told me to come in. "Allie?" I asked, stepping inside, feeling like a child sent to the principal's office. "Everything okay?"

Allie sighed. "Come in and sit down, Murphy."

"Sure," I replied, doing as she said. "Something up with Charlotte?"

"No." Allie's shoulders slacked then, looking uncomfortable. "Look, there's been a development within our ranks..."

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Yes. And it seems that Nicholas would like to take a step back from things, and take some personal time to be with Charlotte."

"Oh," I said quietly. "Oh, I see..."

"Yes. Only for a few weeks, at this point."

"But... You said treatment was going well—"

"And it is," Allie assured me. "But, you just reach a point where doctors and patients alike would prefer the families to prepare for the worse."

I nodded. "Understood."

"In the meantime—the Farris case," Allie went on. "I will be taking over Nicholas's position, and the work you two have been working so hard on has been transferred to my department. I will need a few days to review it, but once that's done, I think we'll have a good shot to nail whoever did this..."

I kept nodding to Allie then, just as I had done to Josh the night before, as my thoughts drifted back to Nicholas again. He'd been strangely quiet these last twenty-four hours, and I immediately knew why. He was punishing me; that's what it was, plain and simple. He was punishing me for going out with Josh, and he wanted the opportunity to mourn without being seen by anyone related to the situation because, whether he liked it or not, in his odd way, he cared for me, and I found myself at a loss as to why that was.


	5. Confrontations

Chapter Five: Confrontations

Allie and I worked hard during the next few weeks on the Farris case; opening arguments, which had originally been scheduled for the first few days of September, had been pushed back until the beginning of January. By then, I knew Allie secretly hoped, Nicholas would be prepared to get back into the saddle again, and to work with me. I didn't want to push it; in fact, between working on the Farris case, caring for Iana and Liam, and making sure there was enough food in the house for me, Ian, Liam, and I, I had to juggle my relationship with Josh.

Josh had been an excellent person I was dating during the last month; I didn't exactly know what to call him, as we hadn't had the "let's be exclusive" chat yet. I didn't mind—I was content just to be in his company, and he was happy to watch me make dinner, while he sat with Iana. It came as a shock to Ian and me when Iana—who usually took her milk only from me, him, Fiona, Debbie, Trevor, or Rebecca—suddenly began accepting bottles from Josh. It amused me, while Ian sarcastically branded Iana a traitor, but knew it was in her best interests to accept it from him, as he could very well be in her life long-term.

Josh and I were cooking together on the first Saturday of October; well, I was cooking, and Josh was sitting with Iana, keeping her entertained. I was making a casserole for the evening with macaroni and hamburger, a recipe I'd just come up with spur of the moment one day, but Ian, Liam, and Trevor—who was also joining us that night—seemed to like it, so I kept circling it around in our dinners. I was looking forward to Josh meeting Trevor officially; they'd seen each other in passing since the baby shower, but tonight was the night where we would all sit down—after Iana and Liam had gone to bed—like real adults having a double date.

"The firm's Halloween party is going to be off-the-hook this year," I said quietly, seasoning the ground beef as I browned it in a pan. I found I was actually looking forward to this party, and the notion that Ian would babysit made me feel all the more responsible.

"Oh, yeah?" Josh asked.

I nodded, wanting to sound casual about the whole thing, like it didn't matter to me, one way or the other. "Yeah."

"Tell me why you haven't mentioned it before then," he joked.

I laughed. "Well, because, last year, I was very pregnant, and decided to skip it and take Liam around the neighborhood with Ian and Trevor," I replied.

"Very pregnant, huh?"

I looked over my shoulder at him and smiled, the notion of him making jokes pleasing me beyond anything in the world. "Well, enough that I knew that drinking would be ill-advised. And besides, I'd more or less made up my mind to keep Iana by that time—although I temporarily thought against it after I went into the hospital," I said quietly. "But, after Ian in his infinite wisdom told me that he supported me..." I shrugged. "I made the ultimate decision to step up to the plate and be a mother."

"Do they have a theme?" Josh asked, lifting Iana out of her highchair and holding her carefully in his arms, a sight which made me smile. "Or is it just a bunch of people standing around and attempting to make a conversation with bad alcohol?"

"No, they have themes, and pretty decent alcohol, or so I've heard," I replied. "Allie told me when I first started at the firm that they have event planners. Every year, by June, they bring them their ideas for the Halloween and Christmas celebrations. This year, the Halloween party is a 1980's theme—complete with a DJ, and coordinated food and booze. I think they even have a dress code, where you have to do your hair and makeup in accordance with the times. Should be fun..."

"Sounds like fun," Josh replied, setting Iana carefully on his lap, and she let out an ecstatic giggle at being free from the highchair, and began kicking her feet.

"Yeah, should be," I said, continuing to move the ground beef around the pan with the spatula, a combination of salt, pepper, and garlic filling my nose. "I was actually wondering if, maybe, you would like to come...as my date."

"Your date?"

"Yeah," I said, not putting too much emotion in my voice, for fear that I would sound desperate by default. "I mean, if you want. I mean, we _are_ dating..."

"It's not that I don't want to, Murph," Josh said, and I peeked over my shoulder at him, casually watching him as he smiled down at Iana, who had taken it upon herself to grip at his thumb and index finger on each of his hands. "It's just that, Halloween and Fourth of July are big days for trouble makers," he said quietly.

"So, you've got to work?"

He sighed. "Yeah. I'm really sorry. It's just that... Some of these kids get into pretty sick stuff, and they need the pros in there to accommodate them with pain medication. Of course, part of me things they pull these shenanigans on purpose—just for the pain pills—but we just file reports and then the police are supposedly going to handle the rest..."

I scoffed then, turning back to my cooking. "Police, huh?"

"I know your family has a beef with law enforcement," he replied. "Probably why they accepted you into the fold so quickly..."

"What?" I asked, turning back to him then. "Are you just saying that they accepted me because I can get them off?"

Josh looked uncomfortable for a moment, like he knew something, but didn't care to share what that thing was. "No, Murph, of course not."

I sighed, turning back to my cooking process, although realizing that if I gripped the spatula much tighter, I was likely to break it in half. "Look, Josh, I know my family situation is complicated. I mean, please, none of them knew I existed until they'd been on the planet almost as long as I have. But still, I know that they've done terrible things, but they're my family, and I need you to accept them."

"I do accept them, Murph," Josh replied. "Of course I accept them. They seem like they're really great people. Even though I've mostly spent time around Ian and Liam, I like them. Really. And Trevor seems great, too."

"Trevor's practically family anyway," I said with a short chuckle.

"Because he's Ian's boyfriend?"

I laughed then, transferring the ground meet to where the macaroni was waiting for it in the casserole dish. "Well, that, and that he's on the pick-up list at Iana's daycare."

"He's...on the pick-up list?" Josh asked.

I nodded, tossing the macaroni and ground beef together, before adding a layer of mozzarella on top and shoving it into the oven. "Yeah," I replied.

"Who else is on the list?"

"Fiona and Debbie," I replied. "And Ian, of course."

"And you just added Trevor to the list?"

I turned around to face Josh then, surprised. "Well, yeah," I said, crossing my arms and leaning back against the countertop. "I mean, you know what line of work he's in, Josh, so of course I trust him completely."

Josh nodded, the thought behind his eyes vanishing. "Yeah. Yeah, of course..."

"Is there a problem with that?" I asked, stepping forward, and picking up Iana, who immediately settled into my arms. "Because, I'd like to know why you would have a problem with who I authorize is acceptable to pick my daughter up from daycare."

Josh shakes his head. "Forget I said anything, Murphy. Really."

I sighed, pressing my lips briefly to Iana's head—her scent could always manage to calm me down, no matter what the situation. "Look, Josh, we're not exclusive—we haven't even had that discussion yet, and it's probably too early," I said, and Josh's eyes locked with mine. "Hell, we haven't even slept together yet. We're just dating casually at this point. If this is out of concern for Iana, then I appreciate it, but it's really not your call to tell me that you don't approve of my brother's boyfriend being on a pick-up list for my daughter."

Josh sighed, running his hand down his face and pausing at the bridge of his nose, which he dragged his hand along before pulling it at the end. "Look, Murph... You're absolutely right. I'm sorry if I was out of line. Really."

I nodded. "Well, I understand that you likely felt concern for Iana," I said, managing a smile for him then, yet still didn't offer to hand my daughter back. "It's appreciated, Josh, really. But I've got a handle on her."

Josh scoffed. "Yeah. You and Ian."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"He acts like her father half the time, Murphy..."

"Because he is her father—technically," I replied. "He's her godfather, and the closest thing Iana has to a father in the first place."

"You've discussed this with him?"

"Yes," I replied. "We co-parent Iana. It's not so unusual."

"But what's going to happen down the line?" Josh asked, getting to his feet. "What's going to happen when you meet the guy of your dreams, and that guy wants to live with you and Iana, and the other potential children you'll have? What if he doesn't think that you living with your brother long-term is a good idea?"

I kept a good hold on Iana, not wanting to do something stupid like drop her in my rising anger towards Josh. "I don't think you're in a position to be saying things like this."

Josh sighed. "Maybe so, Murph. Maybe so. But I hope that, one day, when I'm your boyfriend, I can say things like this, and it won't be taken lightly."

. . .

I spent the next week drowned in paperwork, only coming up for air the following Sunday, when I got Iana all bundled up and left the house. I sent a text to Iana, letting him know that I was going to the diner, and would bring him and Liam back something if they wanted. Setting my daughter in her car seat, I drove out of our neighborhood and into the main part of town, and was relieved when the drive didn't take very long.

I pulled up in front of the diner, getting Iana out of the car quickly and carrying her inside, and was pleased when Fiona turned around at the pair of us coming inside. Immediately, her smile at the sight of me faded, and saw the look of concern behind my eyes. She told one of the wait staff to bring out a highchair from the back and immediately stepped forward, pulling me into her arms and just holding me for a moment. Finally, when the highchair arrived, I set Iana into it and collapsed into one half of the booth, Fiona taking the other.

"What's up, Murph?" she asked.

I sighed. "It's Josh..."

"Trouble in paradise?"

I scoffed. "You could say that..."

"What happened?"

I crossed my arms. "He pitched a fit about the list of people that I've approved to pick up Iana from her daycare," I replied.

Fiona hesitated for a moment. "Am I on the list?"

"Not helping!" I cried, reaching out and shoving her arm. "Yes, of course you're on the list! You are Iana's godmother, after all..."

Fiona smiled. "Well, who on the list didn't he like? Not that it's any of his business anyway. I mean, Iana's a Gallagher—you're a Gallagher. It's our business."

I sighed. "He got kind of weirded out that Trevor's on the list."

"Trevor's on the list?"

I shrugged. "Sure. I mean, he and I are friends, and he's Ian's boyfriend. Besides, I see no problem with him picking up Iana."

"No, of course not," Fiona said quickly. "There isn't an issue. Iana is your daughter, and Josh isn't even your boyfriend yet."

"We did go out a few times..."

Fiona raised her eyebrows. "As in, you're dating?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"How many dates has it been?"

"Four official ones," I replied. "Then he's come by the house a lot since the baby shower, and we've done lunch a few times..."

"And?" Fiona asked.

"Well, there was that moment we had at little Ian's funeral, that Lip got threatened by," I said, averting my eyes, always uncomfortable with talking about Lip's infatuation with me. "I mean, we haven't had the 'let's be exclusive' talk yet, and Josh hasn't asked me." I leaned back against the cushion of the booth. "Well, I mean, we haven't..."

Fiona's eyes locked with mine. "What?"

I leaned in closer to her then. "Well, I mean, we haven't fucked yet..."

Fiona grinned. "Oh. I see."

"So, I don't know, I just felt threatened with his attitude about the whole thing," I said, looking at the stack of menus on the other end of the table. "In the past, when I would feel down about something, I wanted diner food..."

"Really?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I don't know where that came from. So, I came here for breakfast, after I fed Iana, of course. If that's cool," I said, sliding my eyes over to Fiona's.

Fiona reached out then, clasping my hand in hers. "You never need to ask if it's cool for you to come here, Murphy. You're my sister. You're family. And you pay the check...and some other poor souls in here, which you really shouldn't do..."

I sighed. "I know. I've been down on my luck before, Fi—not financially, of course, just mentally—and I just feel like, now that I can give back, I want to."

Fiona smiled. "Well, I appreciate your willingness to help my customers," she replied, grabbing a menu for me. "Now, what can I get you for breakfast?"

. . .

I managed to slip into the green party dress I'd bought for the Halloween party; I was going as Cyndi Lauper, and I spent a good half an hour in the bathroom teasing and curling my hair for the evening. I glued fake lashes to my eyes, and put on sparkled eyeshadow; my lips were all done up in red, and my cheeks were bright pink. I stepped into peep-toe black heels and trooped out of the bathroom, putting on my leather jacket as I headed downstairs, walking into the living room where Ian sat, holding Iana, and watching Liam search through his candy.

"Okay," I said, making a grab for my purse and checking my phone. "I'm heading out now. I should be back around midnight, so I'll be quiet when I come it."

Ian got to his feet, grinning at me. "Well, you look great, Murph," he assured me, pulling me into a gentle hug.

"Thank you," I replied, kissing Iana on the cheek. "Mommy loves you," I whispered to her before looking up at Ian. "And I love you," I said, kissing his cheek before walking over Liam, who was still distracted by his candy. "And I love you, too, little man."

"Bye Murphy," Liam said. "Are you going to dance tonight?"

I laughed, catching Ian's eye. "Like there's no tomorrow," I replied.

"Love you," Ian called after me. "Drive safe!"

"Will do!" I called back.

I stepped out the front door and pulled it closed behind me. I walked down the stairs and across the lawn towards the gate, letting myself out and making my way towards my car. I got in quickly, shutting the door behind me and starting it up, driving out into the street and towards the main highway to get me to the firm.

I arrived a good fifteen minutes later, pulling into my parking space and heading directly towards the elevator. I pressed the button, and was relieved when it arrived quickly, before I stepped inside and pressed the middle floor button. The employee café had been cleared out that night and had been set up for the party, the tables and chairs moved to storage. I got the feeling like I was going to a school dance—I still technically lived at home, had a curfew, and both personal and professional responsibilities to attend to.

I stepped off the elevator at the correct floor, already hearing quintessential 80's music pumping through the rented speakers. Smiling to myself, I stepped forward, into the fray, and saw various people in costume under disco lights. I spotted Hugo and Allie, standing back from it all, and were admiring the scene before them, of their happy employees. Pleased to find a pair of familiar faces in the crowd, I stepped forward, and smiled at them.

"Hi," I said, looking them over. "Let me guess—Benny and Frida of ABBA."

Hugo laughed. "Exactly!"

"How did you guess?" Allie asked.

I shrugged, turning around to inspect the drinks table, and was relieved that everything was labeled accordingly. "Lucky guess," I replied, grabbing some sparkling cider.

"And you're...Cyndi Lauper, right?" Allie asked.

I nodded, turning around and sipping my drink. "Yes. That's right."

"Nicholas is around here somewhere," Hugo replied, and I nodded, not wanting to draw attention to myself.

"What's he dressed as?" I wanted to know.

"Oh, you'll know it when you see it," Allie assured me.

I looked through the crowd then, scanning for more people I knew, and saw that Rachel and Cindy were dressed as Ann and Nancy Wilson of Heart respectively. I waved to the both of them and continued scanning the crowd, my heart stopping when I managed to pick out Nicholas. He was dressed in head-to-toe black leather, his dark hair had extensions in it, had been tinted blond, and was straightened.

"David Bowie," I said quietly, "from _Labyrinth_."

"That was surprisingly quick," Hugo replied.

I shrugged. "Sometimes, on the rare occasion when I had behaved, I treated myself to a movie or two," I said quietly, forcing myself to sip my drink to keep a handle on everything. " _Labyrinth_ always held a special place in my heart, I guess..."

I continued making small talk with Hugo and Allie, and our conversation inevitably drifted back to the Farris case. We'd managed to discover that Pamela Farris was from a well-to-do oil family who lived in Paris, and that that wasn't the only thing that turned on Paul Farris to her. Pamela was wickedly intelligent as well, and yet she seemed to be very quiet, as well as extremely pliable, which would make sense, given the situation Jackie had found herself in with Paul. And even though it was supposed to be a party surrounding reportedly the most frightening day of the year, all I could think about was work, and the notion that Nicholas was dressed as one of my teenaged crushes.

After an hour of chatting with Hugo and Allie, I excused myself to go to the dance floor, after Rachel and Cindy had waved me over. Feeling relieved at the feeling of cutting loose, I let myself go, wishing that I could've splurged on some alcohol that evening, but pushing the thought from my mind as countless tunes from yesteryear played. The music pumped in my ears, and I lost track of time, in my laughing and exploits with Rachel and Cindy, until I turned around and found myself face to face with Nicholas. I hesitate for a moment, the closeness in proximity was palatable, and the notion that we'd been so far away from one another for the last four weeks made the experience all the more intoxicating.

"Hi," I said, giving him a wave.

Nicholas hesitated for a moment. "Can we talk?" he asked.

I nodded. "Sure," I said, knowing that the music around us would've been counterproductive to attempt at yelling in conversation. I followed Nicholas then, into the kitchen area, which was now deserted, due to it being the end of the day. "What's on your mind?"

He sighed. "I know you think I'm avoiding you."

I crossed my arms. "It's true, isn't it?"

He sighed. "Slightly."

I blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Nicholas bit his lip. "The whole office is going to know by Thanksgiving, Murph, but you should know that Charlotte's dying."

Automatically, my hands flew to my face. "Nicholas! I'm so sorry."

He shrugged. "Yeah, well, can't be helped."

"But I thought that treatment was working..."

"Charlotte quit treatment," he said quietly. "That's why she's here, Murphy, and it's also why she decided to come home."

I sighed, my hands falling to my sides. "She came home to die?"

He nods. "Yes."

"I'm sorry."

He nodded again. "We're... We're coping...or trying to."

I bit my lip. "Look, you know how sorry I am about Charlotte, Nicholas, but you just said that the fact that you were ignoring me was only slightly true. I don't want the slight truth here; I want the whole truth. Have you been avoiding me?"

Nicholas sighed. "Yes," he said after a moment. "Yes, I have."

I bit my lip, shaking my head and crossing my arms. "Is this about the fact that Josh and I are officially dating now? Are you acting like a pussy because Josh has the shiny new toy, and you can't play with it anymore?"

He looked away. "That's not fair, Murph."

"None of this is fair," I replied, throwing up my hands. "I have a daughter who can never see her biological father ever. You're losing your sister. We have a case we need to be working on together, and we just might convict the wrong person, because you're so fucking stubborn, you blocked the P.I. from investigating Paul's half-sister."

Nicholas shook his head. "It was irrelevant."

I sighed, dragging my hands across my face. "Okay. None of this is irrelevant—we have our own shit going on, Nicholas. And you running away like a fucking pussy, just because you don't like my choice of boyfriend, and using your sister's death as a scapegoat, is the lowest thing I think you've ever done."

"Charlotte _is_ dying, Murphy," Nicholas said firmly. "But, you're right. I do have a problem with you dating Josh. There," he said, "I said it."

I rolled my eyes. "You're not supposed to have a problem with it, Nicholas," I fire back. "You don't even care about me. So what should any of this matter?"

Nicholas sighed, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. "You honestly think, after all this time, that I don't care about you, Murphy?"

I shook my head. "No, Nicholas, I don't think you care about me. All you like to use me for is sex, and while I admit, I was okay with that arrangement, I was not okay with the unspoken strings that came with."

"Unspoken strings?"

"You thinking you knew best when it came to my dating life," I replied, annoyed that I actually had to explain this to him.

"Sometimes I know best, Murphy."

I roll my eyes. "Right—a guy who cares nothing about me knows what's best when it comes to me choosing a significant other. Right..."

"Dammit, Murphy—I do care!" Nicholas cried, advancing upon me then and yanking me towards him, slamming his lips to mine. "I care so goddamn much," he whispered, his breath feeling intoxicating on my mouth.

I shook my head. "No. No, you can't care..."

Nicholas sighed, looking down at me. "I care."

Mulling it over for a fraction of a second, I feel my hands moving back towards his neck, which I pull towards me, inviting Nicholas back to kissing me. "I want you to care," I whisper, feeling our hands working to get ourselves out of our clothes. "I want you to care so goddamn much," I say, my voice throaty, as Nicholas leans me up against a cooking surface and makes me his pleasure that night.

TO BE CONTINUED


	6. The Lies We Have To Tell

Chapter Six: The Lies We Have To Tell

I woke up the following morning after the firm's Halloween party with a pounding head, and cursed myself for not looking too carefully at the drink refreshment table. _I must've accidentally grabbed the alcoholic cider_ , I reasoned with myself, making a grab for my phone to shut off my alarm. It was Wednesday, meaning that my day at the firm was shorter, but I was also in charge of picking up Iana and Liam from daycare and school respectively. I shoved myself out of bed, knowing that I would need to take a moment, once downstairs, to take some pain medication to alleviate the headache that was slowly morphing into a full-blown hangover.

As I saw to Iana after getting out of bed—changing her into a fresh diaper and doing my best to make silly faces as I dressed her warmly—I kissed her forehead, her smell putting me at ease as I set her down in the center of my bed. Stripping off my T-shirt and long pajama pants, I trudged over to the closet and made a grab for a pair of black slacks, a white camisole, and a black blazer to wear that day. I grabbed a pair of my dress socks, and stepped into a pair of black heels as I shoved the last of what I needed into Iana's bag, just buttoning up my blazer when there was a knock at my bedroom door.

I bent to pick up Iana as I moved to open it, putting some lip gloss on as I opened the door, and did my best to plaster a smile on my face as I looked up at Ian. "Hey," I managed to get out, and he gave me a sympathetic expression.

He held up a glass of water and two pain pills. "Trade you?"

"Please," I replied, maneuvering Iana carefully as I tossed the lip gloss onto my bed, and took the pills into one hand, while Ian took my daughter, and I made a grab for the water. "You have no idea what a relief this is," I told him, popping the pills into my mouth and chugging the water. "It is _such_ a relief..."

"Bad night?" Ian asked, and I smiled up at them, watching as Iana tucked her head into the space between his neck and his shoulder. "I mean, I don't want to assume..."

I held up my hand. "It is what it is," I said, continuing to sip at my water.

Ian nodded then, a deeper understanding developing on his face. "That bad, huh?"

I peered up at him. "What? What do you know?"

He shrugged. "Nothing. Just an assumption."

I scoffed then. "Fuck off," I muttered, turning around to grab my bags, slipping my lip gloss into the makeup compartment of my business satchel.

"Does it have anything to do with Nicholas?"

I hesitated for a moment in my movements, and felt a moment of hatred flow through me as my cheeks betrayed me by flushing. "What's your point?" I muttered, moving past Ian to go to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

"Well, it's just that you came stumbling in close to midnight last night, and you were mutter swearing all the way to your room. I'm surprised Iana didn't wake up screaming."

"She's a good sleeper," I muttered, making a grab for my toothbrush and filling it with paste. "I mean, I'm allowed a drink, aren't I?" I asked, vaguely remembering pumping after the party last night, to ensure I got all the alcohol out of my system. "I like to think I'm responsible enough to party a little..."

"Oh, sure," Ian replied, bouncing Iana ever so slightly as I stuck my toothbrush into my mouth and began to brush my teeth. "You're plenty responsible, Murph. Now, are you going to be a good twin and tell me what happened last night, or do I have to pry it out of you little by little throughout the day?"

I turned to Ian then, my mouth filled with toothpaste, and growled at him like some kind of rabid wolf, and I was momentarily pleased that he looked amused. I bent down then, washing out my mouth, and was careful not to get any offending matter on my clothes. "What's there to know?" I asked, moving to wipe my mouth on the hand towel. "I'm an attorney. I went to the firm's annual Halloween party, and had a little too much to drink. End of story," I said, picking up my bags again and moving towards the stairs.

"It's not the first time you haven't remembered much after a night of drinking," Ian said carefully as he climbed downstairs after me. "I mean... Well, you know," he said as we entered the kitchen, and I turned to face him then, as he gestured towards Iana with his head. "Something you wanna tell me?"

I made a face at Ian and moved to set my bags down on the couch and turned to Liam, who was munching on his bowl of cereal. "Good morning to you, little man," I said, bending down to kiss his forehead. "How's breakfast?"

"Good," Liam replied.

"We leave in twenty minutes," I told him. "And we're going shopping after school today, so come out in a hurry."

"Okay," he said jovially.

I found that Ian was still staring at me, and I continued to feel his eyes on my back as I walked towards the refrigerator, making a grab for a bottle for Iana, before grabbing a cereal bar from the upper cabinet. "What?" I asked him, grabbing a dribble guard from the drawer and taking Iana back, whereupon I brought her over to the couch, setting the precautionary towel out so as my daughter wouldn't spit up on me during feeding. "I know your staring means something, Ian, so come on out and say it."

Ian sighed, moving to sit next to me as I put the bottle into Iana's mouth. "Well, it's just that, the last time you drank heavily, you found out you were pregnant with Iana. I'm just wondering if things got a little too out of hand last night..."

"Don't act like a fucking parent, Ian," I muttered to him, not wanting Liam to hear this part of our conversation. "Neither of us had those, despite our different raising up lifestyles, and I sure as hell don't need my twin attempting to be my dad."

Ian sighed again, sitting back. "Point taken."

I rolled my eyes, knowing that Ian was likely to get it out of me eventually, and I knew if I continued to withhold information from him, the conversation would continue. "Besides, I don't need to worry about pregnancy," I replied.

"You thought so before," Ian replied, "and you got Iana."

I lock my eyes with his then, growing exasperated. "Because, as soon as I learned it was safe for me to do so, I got on the pill, and Nicholas always uses a condom," I hissed. "And last night was no exception, so no pregnancy for me."

Ian raised his eyebrows. "What about Josh?"

I sighed. "What _about_ Josh?"

Ian shook his head. "No, I mean, it's your business and everything, but I thought you and Josh were a couple now."

I shook my head back at him. "No. He's not my boyfriend. We're just dating, and we haven't slept together yet."

"Wait. Still?"

I nodded. "Still. No sex whatsoever."

"So, what is it you guys do?"

I shrugged my shoulders, turning to look back at Liam. "I see that you've finished your cereal there, young man. Why don't you put all your dishes into the dishwasher and make sure you have your schoolbag together, okay?"

"Okay," Liam replied, getting to his feet and putting away his dishes, whereupon he dashed upstairs to get his things ready.

"He and I had a bit of a disagreement over the Halloween party..."

"What kind of disagreement?"

I sighed. "Well, I suppose it all started when he told me that he couldn't come, because he was tied up with work commitments. And then he implied that the only reason you all accepted me as your sister so quickly was because of my job."

Ian blinked. "Wait. He said that we only welcomed you into the family because of the fact that you could keep us out of prison?"

I nodded. "That's right."

Ian scoffed. "You've got to be fucking kidding me right now. Pretty much all of us have a record here—except for Liam and for you, and Debbie's pretty straight-laced—but come on. I hope he wasn't being serious."

I shrugged. "I think it was meant as a joke. I don't know." I leaned in closer to him then, as I took Iana off the bottle, and moved the towel so that I could burp her. "I'll tell you this—he was apologizing to me for the rest of the night."

Ian gave me a confused expression. "But you said you two hadn't slept together."

I nodded. "No, you're right. I did say that."

"So, you haven't slept together?"

I shook my head. "We haven't had sex, no. Sex," I said, making the word come out very slowly so that he would catch on. "I have not had sex with Josh."

"Oh, so you mean you...?"

I nodded, grinning at Ian as I formed my mouth into an 'O', whereupon I stuck my tongue out at him and laughed. "Like I said, he was apologizing to me for the rest of the night."

"So, you give him head?" he asks.

I nodded. "A few times a week," I replied. "Not really so bad, because he doesn't hold my head there and beg for more. He just lies back and accepts what I give him."

"You give head to Nicholas?"

I shake my head. "Never."

"And Lip and Mickey? You didn't...?"

I shake my head, finding that I am sick at the notion that I slept with either one of them. "No, of course I didn't."

"So, other than Jessica, you've never given oral to anyone else?"

I shake my head then, and then ponder something. "You ever make someone cry?"

Immediately, I have his attention. "Cry?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Cry. During encounters or whatever..."

Ian smirked. "Yeah. You?"

I find I am thrown for a moment. "You...hurt them?" I ask, bringing Iana back down once she's finished burping, and prop her up against me.

Ian laughed. "No. It's joy."

I leaned down, pressing my nose gently against Iana's head. "Ah, I see."

Ian sat back then, obviously amused. "You?"

I looked up. "What?"

My twin smirked then. "Ever make anyone cry?"

I let out a short laugh then. "Yeah," I replied, leaning my head up and sticking out my tongue before I pushed out my lips. "Mouths are a beautiful thing..."

"But you've never made Nicholas cry?"

I shook my head. "No. I've never seen him."

Ian looked confused then. "See him?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Our method is very...different..."

"Your method?"

"Method, position, whatever," I said, shrugging.

"What do you do?" Ian asks.

I sighed. "Don't laugh..."

"Murph, I'm gay. Trust me. I won't laugh."

I made a face. "Not the answer I was thinking of, but okay..."

"So, your position?"

I sighed. "He... Well, he'll either bend me over a desk or work surface or I'll just lie there and then he fucks me," I replied.

Ian blinked. "So, you don't look at each other?"

I sighed. "I have, a few times, I guess. But when _it_ comes, I'm always clawing the work surface or whatever it is he's fucking me on and hang on for dear life... And then there's the rule about kissing..."

"You said you don't kiss."

I bit my lip then, finding that I am having a difficulty in explaining what I did do and didn't do with Nicholas. "We do. Well, I mean we have..." I sighed, unsure what my hesitation on the subject meant, but decided to push on. "I guess sometimes our minds get away from us and we end up kissing. It's weird. It makes me feel like I'm giving over my soul or something to him, and I don't want to do that."

"You kiss Josh," Ian put in.

I sighed, getting to my feet as Liam came downstairs. "I know, but it's less complicated with him," I whispered before making sure that Liam was ready for school.

. . .

"What are you thinking?"

I turn to Josh then as we drive down the main streets of South Side after our dinner at our little French bistro, and find I'm not altogether sure as I lace my fingers through his. "I'm not sure," I admit then, knowing that honesty is usually the best policy. "I guess you could say that I'm worried that you'll get tired of me giving you blowjobs every night."

Josh laughed. "Well, I enjoy it," he assured me. "But, I know that, with Iana, there's a lot of uncertainty, and I wouldn't want to pressure you..."

"You wouldn't be," I assured him as we stopped at a light. I leaned over to him then, pressing my lips to his cheek, and leaned in closer. "In fact, Ian and Trevor are having a date night at home tonight, so the sky's the limit..."

"What does that mean?" Josh asked, a chuckle behind his tone.

"What do you want it to mean?" I asked him.

Josh smiled. "My apartment is a few blocks from here..."

"Set the course there, then," I replied.

As Josh drove, I sent a text to Ian, telling him that we were having dessert—which was not too far from the truth—and that I would be home in an hour. Ian replied that Iana was fast asleep and that he and Trevor were having a great time. I told him not to do anything I wouldn't do as we drove up to a posh-looking apartment building and drove into the lot. I found myself struggling not to roll my eyes as Josh pulled into the spot that said RESERVED FOR THE PENTHOUSE SUITE, but was quite touched when he circled the car and opened my door for me, putting out his hand to lead me to the elevator.

"Penthouse suite, huh?" I asked as he pressed the 'up' button.

Josh grinned. "Perks of being a doctor."

"I'm sure," I replied as the elevators dinged open—they were far quicker than the ones we had at the firm.

We stepped inside, and the carpet inside was thick, lush, and in far better condition than the interior of the firm's elevators. I said nothing as Josh pressed the penthouse suite button, and the doors quickly shut and surged us upwards. I found I was content at the feeling of Josh standing beside me, his hand upon the small of my back, and as the doors dinged open, he led me to the door of his penthouse and unlocked it quickly.

"My staff should be gone by now," he said.

"Staff?" I asked as we stepped inside.

"My housekeeper and cook," he replied. "My bodyguard is on vacation."

I raised my eyebrows. "Bodyguard?"

He smirked. "Okay, that last one was a lie," he replied. "My housekeeper comes three times a week, and my cook comes once a week to fill my fridge and freezer with meals. They're both off today, so we have nothing to worry about."

"Understood," I replied.

We walked through the foyer—which boasted white, Greek statues on either side of the entryway and stepped into a hallway. I saw a gourmet kitchen on one side, plus a living room on the other, and what I thought was a study around a corner. Josh and I kept walking, however, and we came to a massive staircase just behind a wall. Going upstairs, I felt my cheeks flooding with blood then, heating myself for what was about to happen that night.

When we arrived on the upper floor, Josh guided me towards an ornately carved door and, upon opening it, we stepped into a lavish-looking master bedroom with an en suite bathroom. It had floor-to-ceiling windows—just like the offices at my firm—which boasted a beautiful view of the Chicago skyline. The bed had to have been a California king, and it had a modern bedframe of black wrought-iron. The furniture—which included dressers in two sizes, and two nightstands on either side of the bed—all were matching and color-coordinated, and, around the corner from the bed on the other side of the room, was a massive walk-in closet with an entry point and an exit point.

"What do you think?" Josh asked.

I turned around and faced him, raising my eyebrows. "Are you trying to impress me?" I wanted to know.

He grinned. "Is it working?"

I shook my head at him, before returning his grin. "You know me," I replied, placing my hands on his shoulders. "I don't get all in a tizzy over material things."

Josh puts his hands upon my waist and pulled me towards him, and I felt a small squeal escaping my lips before I could call it back. "And that right there is just one of the few things I like about you, Murphy."

"One of the few things?" I asked.

He grinned, cupping my ass in his strong hands, and I found myself arching towards him. "I think I can come up with a few more..."

"Really?"

He nodded, leaning down. "Really," he replied, kissing me.

Josh was so sure of himself, which wasn't altogether a turnoff, and as he undressed me—slowly, and with care—I found how different sex could be if it wasn't rushed and hurried. I didn't have the lingering feeling within me then that I was doing something wrong on a physical level, but something continued eating at me as I reached out and undressed Josh. I couldn't put my finger on it, but Josh stood there to admire me for a moment, and I him, and as I moved towards the bed and lay down, I found that I was shocked about something.

"There's a first time for everything, I guess..."

"What do you mean?" Josh asked, moving to grab a condom from the nightstand. He was fully erect and ready to go, and I hoped that what I had to say wouldn't ruin the moment.

"No, it's fine," I replied, smiling at him. "I've just never had sex in a bed before."

Josh blinked. "Really?"

I nodded. "Yeah. With a guy."

He smiled. "Oh. Right. Jessica," he said, maneuvering himself into a condom. "Then there were the two one-night-stands..."

"Couch and a public bathroom...in Mexico," I replied.

Josh looked amused. "Really?" he asked, moving towards me.

I nodded. "Really."

"And Nicholas?" Josh asked as he entered me then, and I felt myself gasp—not at his size, or his length, but of the notion that he'd mentioned Nicholas. "Those trysts were in various offices at the firm, right?"

I nodded, not wanting to reveal that the latest one had, in fact, been in the kitchen of the employee café. "Yeah," I replied, moving my hands up towards his chiseled chest, and hoping that we wouldn't have to talk about Nicholas anymore. "Right."

"Are you comfortable?" Josh whispered.

Immediately, I plastered a smile on my face. "I'm fine, Josh. Just fine."

. . .

I managed to stumble through the weekend, relieved that Josh and I had had our first time on a Friday, but by Monday, I was absolutely anything but fine. After a sleepless weekend, I arrived at work, only to find that Nicholas had taken another personal day to be with Charlotte. I found I was relieved when Allie assured me that he would be back the following day.

"You look exhausted," she mentioned to me during lunch, not unkindly. "Are you all right? Is Iana keeping you up?"

I laughed. "No. Iana's great. She even slept well at the hospital. I'll be honest, I feel like if I didn't look at her, she'd stop breathing."

Allie smiled. "I was the same way with Charlotte, and with our younger son, Lucas, during the first few months..."

"What does Lucas do with his time?" I asked.

"Ever hear of Luca Bloom, one of the top-earning teen stars of all time?"

My mouth fell open. "Your son is the teen heartthrob actor/singer?" I cried.

Allie nodded. "The very one. Charlotte, back when she was working and living out in Los Angeles for the modeling agency, invited Lucas out there the summer he turned sixteen. Well, the modeling agency signed him immediately, and Lucas received his GED that summer before he continued modeling. And then, he got an agent, who got him a record deal, and then the T.V. and film contracts kept pouring in, and the rest is history."

"My adopted brothers loved the _Detective Mysteries_ series, after I got them into it" I replied. "It was so heartbreaking for them—and for me—when Lucas's character, Hunter Stone, was killed off so unexpectedly in the seventh season finale."

"Well, he had to quit _Detective Mysteries_ to go on tour," Allie explained. "Of course..." She looked around for a moment, before leaning in closer. "I shouldn't be saying this, but... You know that the tenth season is due to premiere in September?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"And that season nine will wrap in May?"

I smiled. "Of course."

"Well, Hunter had a twin brother, Harrison, who is going to realize his identity, and come back in the season nine finale," Allie said enthusiastically. "There's going to be a whole thing of amnesia and memory erasing, but then, in the season ten finale, it's going to be revealed that Harrison got his memory wiped, and that he is actually Hunter, but that it was merely a situation of he _almost_ died, and that he's been alive and living under an assumed identity all this time and as a result..."

"Fans will be angry," I said with a grin.

Allie laughed. "Oh, they can get so dramatic. Can't they just see that creators and writers have an ultimate vision, and that they have to jerk the viewers around a bit, just so that they realize that life can't be so perfect all the time?"

I smiled then, knowing exactly what to say next. "I think, Allie, that you and I are prime examples of people who don't have perfect lives."

Allie returned my smile. "Yes, Murphy, but yours worked out, in the end," she replied. "As for mine, I'm happy with what I got, and the time I had with Charlotte. I'm just glad that she held on for as long as she did."

"Will Lucas be coming home soon to spend some time with her?" I asked. "Admittedly, I'd love to meet him..."

"He's coming home in a few weeks," Allie assured me, "and, don't worry, we'll make sure that he meets you, especially after all you are to our family, and to Nicholas."

I sighed. "I'm not so sure..."

Allie blinked. "What do you mean, Murphy?"

I sighed again. "After Nicholas finds out what happened between me and Josh last weekend..." I shrugged. "I don't even know if he'll speak to me again..."

Allie smiled, taking my hand. "Don't think that way, dear."

"How can I not?" I whispered. "After all they've been through, and after all the things I've been through with both of them? Something's got to give, Allie, something has to..."

. . .

When I arrived at the firm the following morning, I didn't see Nicholas, which wasn't so unusual for the beginning of the day, so I retreated to my office. Finding it empty, I did menial tasks throughout the morning, my heart beating quickly, as I dreaded what I knew was to come. When lunch came and went—with me still hiding in my office barely able to take a nibble or two of my sandwich—I knew that enough was enough. As I got to my feet and moved towards my door, I felt my heart enter my throat when Nicholas beat me to it, coming into my office and shutting the door behind me.

"Nicholas?" I asked.

"Don't," he said, and there was something hidden behind his voice, something that I could just make out—pain. "Don't give me the innocent act right now, Murphy. I can't take it. Just give it to me straight, please."

I bit my lip then, my fingers tangling into one another, as I struggled for the words. "What would you like to know, Nicholas?"

His dark eyes locked with mine then, and I could see that the pain was hard to make out, due to him masking it, but I definitely knew it was somewhere in there, buried deep. "Did you sleep with him?" he asked me, attempting to keep his voice contained.

"What?" I asked, surprised that he would ask me that directly.

"Did you sleep with Josh?" he asked.

I found then, for the first time, that I wanted to lie; in that moment, shame washed over me, and I wished then that I could've taken Friday night back. "Yes," I whispered, hating myself for telling the truth, but knowing that it had to be said. As I stood there, in front of him then, I wanted to lie and scream and beg forgiveness, I really did...

"Why?" he whispered.

I blinked, unsure of the meaning of the question. "Why?" I asked him.

"Why the fuck would you want to hurt me?!" he demanded then, and those words, beyond any measure, hurt.

"Fuck you!" I screamed at him.

His reaction was clear—my words had cut him like a knife. "What?"

I couldn't believe him—he was a goddamned hypocrite if I'd ever seen one! I'd given him several chances—although, admittedly, the first change was ill-advised, due to his relationship with Jasmine, but still, chances were given. "Fuck you, Nicholas," I whispered, shaking my head at him. "You're not going to do this to me."

"What are you talking about?"

"You _know_ what I'm talking about!" I cried. "You're such a fucking hypocrite! You know as well as I do that you were fucking _living_ with Jasmine—hell, you even called her your girlfriend at the time! You saw how much that hurt me, and you didn't give a shit—ever! You said you had a commitment to her and your child, and, at the time, I didn't give a fuck, because I went after what I wanted! Now that you're going after it..." I shook my head at him. "You're only going after it because you're jealous, but you knew that those weren't my motivations!"

"Murphy—"

"No!" I shouted. " _I'm_ talking now—it's _my_ turn! Yes, I slept with Josh, and I'm sorry if you can't get over what happened before I ever came onto the scene, Nicholas, I really am. But Josh is practically my boyfriend, and I shouldn't be made to feel guilty or slut-shamed, for that matter, if I sleep with him! With Josh it was different—we could actually _look_ at each other!" I shout then, and I could see that that had pained Nicholas the most, out of everything that we'd said to the other that day. "You can't even look at me when you're fucking me. But that makes a whole lot of sense, doesn't it?" I asked, crossing my arms. "What you and I do? That's fucking. What Josh and I did? That's making love," I spat at him.

"What do you want?" he asked me then, his voice devoid of emotion.

I shook my head at him, fighting the urge to run across the room and slam him into the wall and to kiss him. "I want you to leave me the fuck alone," I replied, my voice shaking from emotion, but I would not allow the tears to fall.

Nicholas nodded stiffly. "And that's what you want?"

I gave him a stiff not in return. "It's what a want."

Nicholas's mouth became a hard line then. "Got it. Will do," he replied, turning around and leaving my office, the door slamming behind him, which caused my pictures on the various walls to shudder in response.

I covered my mouth then, hating myself for what happened next. I couldn't stop the tears from falling as I came to the heart wrenching conclusion, one that I'd denied to everyone, for so long, but now could no longer deny. I fucking cared—so much—about Nicholas Blomqvist, and, seeing him hurt like that pushed me over the edge, as I held my hand to my mouth, to prevent the sobs from echoing throughout my office.


	7. Death in the Family

Chapter Seven: Death in the Family

In the weeks that followed, Allie informed Nicholas and I that we would formally begin working on the Farris case once again in January, as the back-to-back holidays of Thanksgiving and Christmas frequently got in the way of work output. I didn't complain, and instead prepared the things I needed to prepare for Iana's six-month wellness visit, which was due to be held close to the end of November. Daisy Radclyffe was again the one to look Iana over, and I was relieved when she said that Iana was hitting all the correct milestones, and that her babbling was much more coherent than it had been at the four-month appointment.

When I left, carrying Iana through the waiting room on my way to Patsy's Pies, where I was due to meet Fiona before picking up Liam, I was surprised when Josh found us. "Hi," I said, a wave of surprise flowing through me when he leaned down to kiss me. "Wow. Kissing in public—at your place of work. I thought you were old-fashioned, Josh."

Josh grinned. "I'm just full of surprises," he replied, greeting Iana before taking her back and following me outside. "What else do you two ladies have planned for today?"

I smiled over my shoulder, always pleased when he included Iana in statements. "Iana and I are going to Patsy's Pies to see Aunt Fiona, for starters," I replied, unlocking my car automatically and putting Iana into her car seat. "Then, we have to go pick up Uncle Liam from school, stop at the grocery store, and then head home to make dinner." I turned to face Josh then, taking Iana's bag from him and placing it in the well near Iana's feet. "And what about you, Dr. Fairfax? Any fun-filled plans for the next few hours?"

He shrugged. "Just a handful of patients," he replied. "Listen, I know it's early, but I was wondering if you wanted to spend Christmas together."

"Christmas?" I asked, hardly having thought of Thanksgiving, which was eight days away. "I mean, I'll be home with the family..."

Josh nodded. "No, I know. I just think that I should get to know them better. I mean, we're dating on a more serious level now..."

I grinned up at him. "Just because we're sleeping together, it's a more serious level?" I asked him. "I mean, we haven't even had the boyfriend and girlfriend conversation yet, or the exclusive talk..."

Josh smiled. "I know. And we will, soon. I just want to make sure we have an opportunity to do so without interruptions." He hesitated for a moment, lacing his hands in mine, using his thumb to run over my knuckles, which was not altogether unpleasant. "So... Christmas?"

"Well, okay," I said, smiling up at him. "Since you asked so nicely..."

Josh leaned his forehead against mine. "Thank you."

"What's the catch?" I asked.

"Just send me a list of what people like, and I'll make it happen."

"Josh..." I whispered.

"What?"

"My family is happy when I'm happy," I said simply. "You don't have to go about impressing anyone, really. Besides, they were impressed enough by the baby shower gifts."

"Do you want me to ask Debbie for the list?" he asked.

I sighed. "No. Knowing her, she'd likely just go above and beyond, and I know she has a thing for you, so that's never a good idea," I replied, and Josh laughed. "But I'll get you a list after Thanksgiving, if that will suffice."

Josh nodded, tilting my chin up to kiss me. "It does. Thank you."

I shook my head at him, leaning in and brushing my lips with his. "You're impossible, Josh. I mean, you know that, don't you?"

He laughed. "So I've been told."

I sighed, pulling away from him and opening my door. "Well, thankfully I'm not late yet, but I will be if I don't get this show on the road."

Josh threw up his hands in mock-surrender. "No problem. So, I'll see you later this week?" he asked, his tone hopeful.

"Friday night, like always," I tossed over my shoulder, shutting Iana's door and climbing into my car, throwing Josh a final smile before I shut the door behind me, and pulled out of the parking lot on my way to see Fiona.

"So, what did Dr. Radclyffe have to say about Iana today?" Ian asked, later that night, as Trevor sat in the living room with Liam and Iana. "Anything interesting?"

"She's meeting her milestones appropriately."

Ian grinned, tossing the salad he'd made. "Well, we knew that already, didn't we? You always poured over those books during your pregnancy, and tacked the most important bits all up around the house..."

I nodded. "Yeah, you're right..."

"What is it?" he asked, immediately sensing something.

"Dr. Radclyffe asked if arrangements for a guardian had been made for Iana, if I was to unfortunately die."

Ian pulled a face. "Fiona and I are godparents... And, I mean, Mickey is a fugitive—a wanted one at that," he said, deliberately lowering his voice for this portion of the conversation. "There's no way in hell he'll get any rights..."

I shrugged my shoulders. "No idea."

"So, have you given it any thoughts?" he asked.

I turned and looked at him and smirked. "Maybe," I replied, forming the ground beef into patties and putting them on the griddle on the stove. "But you'll just have to wait and see, mister. It'll get out, and once it does..." I threw up my hands, and Ian mock-screamed when I came at him with ground meat fingers. "...there will be a whole new thing to argue over within the Gallagher household. Won't that be fun?"

. . .

Thanksgiving passed, and preparations for Christmas were officially in full-swing by the first of the month. I went online as soon as midnight hit on the first of December, armed with my list of gifts from co-workers, to Josh, to my siblings, and ordered everything that I could somehow manage to find. I was relieved when I managed to find everything necessary—plus a few things that were impulse buys, as well as things just enough like, if not better, than what the people had in mind for their gifts. It was all a wonderful process, and once I'd confirmed that everything would arrive before Christmas, I was happier than ever.

Christmas day arrived and it was a beautiful day; Josh arrived in the morning, armed with bags of gifts that everyone rushed outside into the snow to help him through the yard and into the house, where the tree stood. Everyone gathered around the bags, wanting to figure out what Josh had bought for them, and, once the fussing had begun, there was no stopping it. My mouth fell open at the Tiffany's box that Josh presented me with, and I held it in my hands for a moment, not wanting to assume, but found I was shell-shocked.

"It's not what you think," he assured me.

I rolled my eyes, opening it, to reveal a platinum heart studded with diamonds. I allowed Josh to take the box from me, whereupon he unhooked it expertly from the insert and put it around my neck. I pulled out my phone, putting it onto camera mode so that I could inspect it; I saw myself staring back at me—my cheeks flushed from the excitement—in my Sabrina neckline green sweater. I was also wearing a new pair of jeans I'd bought for myself, and my new faux-fur-lined snow boots, of which I'd also bought Fiona, Debbie, Franny, and Iana a pair.

"You didn't have to do this," I whispered.

Josh smiled. "Yes, I did."

I shook my head at him. "But, it's so expensive..."

Josh laughed. "And I've told you every time I pay for something that it's such a non-issue. I know you're not one to covet material possessions... But, just tell me something here, Murphy, and tell me the truth. Do you like it?"

I let out a short laugh then, but I could see in Josh's eyes that he was serious. As we stood out on the porch, the snow falling around us, the rest of my family inside, I loved that we were taking just a small moment in time to fully absorb all that there was between us, and I was pleased, and touched, at the gift. "Yes. I love it. You know I love it."

Josh grinned. "Well, I'll take my present now."

I rolled my eyes, moving to where I'd put his gift, just inside the door, so as I wouldn't forget about it later. "I just remember window shopping with you a few weeks ago. We walked by that department store display, and you said you liked this..."

Josh laughed, taking ahold of the carefully wrapped package. "What did you do?" he asked, and I remained silent, watching him unwrap the gift. "It's that vintage stethoscope set," he whispered in awe, holding it carefully in his hands.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I mean, you said you liked it, so I just wanted to make sure I bought it quickly, before someone else got their hands on it..."

Josh cut me off then, pulling me into his arms and kissing me, a small squeal of surprise escaping my lips. "You're wonderful," he whispered, and, I had to admit, in that moment, I didn't really appreciate him tangling his fingers in my hair. "It's lovely, Murphy. Really lovely..."

I smiled nevertheless, and was quick in extracting myself from his grip. "Well, thank you. I'm glad you like it..." I said, my tone awkward.

"Okay, okay, get a room, you two," Ian said sarcastically. "Now that Josh is here, can you make the big announcement now?"

"Oh, yes, yes, yes," I said in the same tone. I went over to the stairs, where I'd left the box, and grabbed it, bringing it over to Ian, who was sitting on the couch with Iana in his lap. "Here you go, Mr. Impatient."

Ian grinned, taking the box and pulling the ribbon, before taking off the top to reveal the important document, placed expertly on top of tissue paper. "In the event of my death, I, Murphy Gallagher, hereby appoint... Ian Gallagher?" he asked, cutting himself off, mid-sentence, before looking up at me. "Really?"

I crossed my arms, willing myself not to cry. "Yeah, really. Just keep reading."

Ian cleared his throat. "I, Murphy Gallagher, hereby appoint Ian Gallagher as the official guardian for my daughter, Iana Gallagher. If Ian Gallagher should then pass away, then my child's godmother, Fiona Gallagher, would thereby have full custody of my child. I would encourage that Ian not make himself a stranger to the family, and ensure that Iana knows them all, so that they could all tell her how much they loved her mommy, tell her about her faults, her prayers, hopes, and dreams that she has for her future, and that, even though she had to go, she never wanted or planned to do so, but circumstances got in the way. She will always be with her, and even though she may not always see her, know that she is there."

I found myself feel a wave of comfort then as Josh pulled me into his arms, and I watched then as Ian's eyes looked down at Iana. "I hope you're okay with this," I said quietly. "I mean, I know that Iana couldn't go to anyone more deserving, but if you're uncool with this, speak up now, Ian, because I know Fiona would love Iana," I said, winking at my older sister, who gave me a quick thumbs-up.

Ian instinctively put his arms around Iana. "You know I want her, Murph," he said, turning back to face me. "Of course I want Iana, if something were to happen. She's my niece, and I love her a lot—you know that."

I smiled at him. "Of course I know that, Ian. How could I not know that? Considering that you and I are parenting her together... In technical terms, you are her father. And I don't want you forgetting that, not for a minute."

Ian shook his head. "I won't forget that, Murph."

I grinned. "Good," I replied.

We stayed like that until lunchtime had passed, and then Josh had to get to the Fairfax home in River North, and we said goodbye at the door. I could smell the Christmas roast cooking in the oven, and Fiona had brought over a few select pies from the diner for dessert. While Debbie watched Franny and Iana on the couch, Ian proceeded to peel the potatoes, while Fiona buttered some carrots for the vegetable that night. I was waiting for the opportune time to put the bread rolls into the oven, yet something was eating at the back of my mind, something that I couldn't quite shake. Ian took careful note of my body language and pulled me aside, when the rest of the family was distracted—Carl and Lip, who Ian and I had agreed to have over for the sake of Christmas—were regaling Liam with PG versions of tall tales, while Trevor kept them in line, and I was pleased that our sisters each had things to do so that I could speak to my twin.

"You're not one for physical contact much," Ian said quietly. "I mean, I know it's snowing today and all, but your reception this morning was...icy."

I made a face. "Don't be ridiculous. I hug all of you...well, mostly," I said, and Ian automatically knew I was referring to Lip. "I mean, what do you want from me?"

"It's not what I want, Murph, but what Josh clearly wants," Ian replied.

I scoffed. "What are you talking about?"

"I think he's held off on the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing because he thinks you're not ready for it," Ian said simply. "I mean, what could possibly be holding you back?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. That's stupid."

Ian raised an eyebrow. "What's that gift on the stairs?"

I flushed red and looked away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Ian sighed, dragging both hands across his face in a moment of exasperation. "Murphy, it seems to me that you have a choice to make here."

I shook my head again. "No choice."

"Murphy, be reasonable for two seconds—for me," he said, knowing that I would always accommodate him if I could. "Who do you want to be with?"

"Ian, it's not that simple, and you know it."

"Come on, Murphy. That gift is for Nicholas, isn't it? You got him a Christmas present because you care about him, don't you?"

I looked away. "I never said that."

"Then why does it explicitly say that it is for him?"

I crossed my arms. "It's not as if I wrote, 'Love, Murphy'."

Ian scoffed. "No, I know you wrote 'From Murphy' on it," he said, quickly managing to grow impatient with me. "If Nicholas is the one, or if Josh is the one, you've got to figure it out. Don't spend years waiting, trying to figure it out, because, on your dark days, you may drive the one person you've always needed out of your life," he said, his voice earnest, and I quickly locked my eyes with his. "You may say something that you can't take back, and you need to know, once and for all, what decision you're going to make."

I knew he was right, and I also had an idea of what I had to do. "Can you...?"

"Yes," Ian replied.

"I was going to say, 'Watch Iana'..."

"I knew what you were going to say," Ian replied, ushering me to the front door and making a grab for my winter coat, which he put on me. "I usually know what you're going to say, Murphy," he went on, zipping up my coat and making a grab for my scarf and hat, "because I am your fucking twin, and I know a thing or two about love."

"This is...not love," I said, moving my mouth out from under the scarf. "This is... I don't know what the fuck this is, Ian."

"It's something," Ian said, grabbing my gift for Nicholas and shoving it into my arms. "Now go out there and do something about whatever this is."

I nodded, stepping out of the house and feeling relieved when Ian shut and locked the door behind me, knowing that I would be too tempted to turn around and run back inside. I walked down the steps of the porch and through the snow covered yard, out to where my car was parked, and got inside, putting Nicholas's gift into the passenger seat. The road before me was covered in snow, and, as I saw it, I had two roads, or two decisions, to follow. I could drive up to River North and ditch Nicholas's present on the way, or I could go to the firm, to check and see if Nicholas was working.

I made my decision and drove through the snow, down the main street, and up towards the highway to get me to where I needed to go. Getting off at the proper exit, I continued my drive through the snow, arriving at the parking garage and pulling inside. I found my space without much difficulty, relief flooding through me when I saw the Nicholas's car was the only other one in the lot that day. I got out of the car, gripping his present with two hands, as I walked towards the elevator, pressing the button frantically and feeling relieved when it finally arrived to take me upstairs to him.

Once the elevators dinged open, I stepped into the lobby, walking past the secretary stations and towards the back hallway. Bypassing my office entirely, I saw a light beneath Nicholas's door and made my hand into a fist and knocked. Knowing that he could still harbor some ill-will towards me, due to our last conversation, my heart was nevertheless beating erratically in my ears, as I stood on the brink of something, although I was unknowing as to what that truly was, for I was only twenty-three-years-old—how much could I know, really?

After what seemed like an eternity, or it could have been mere seconds, Nicholas finally spoke from the other side of the door. "Yeah?"

Tentatively, I turned the handle, poking my head around the door as I stepped inside. "Merry Christmas," I said, stepping into the room, my gift presented immediately. "I come in peace, Nicholas, I really do, although I'm probably the last person you want to see right now..."

Nicholas scoffed. "No. The last person I'd want to see is the Ghost of Christmas Future, when I'd have to see future holidays without my sister."

I gave a nod at the honesty of the statement. "I can understand that."

Nicholas got to his feet and circled around his desk, coming towards me. "Well, let's see what you got me, then," he said, taking ahold of the gift and turning around. He placed the package onto his desk, taking great care in unwrapping it, and produced the leather satchel I'd picked out for him, with a platinum tag attached to it, which bore his name.

"Do you like it?" I asked him, watching as he ran his hand along the side of it. "I mean, I wasn't altogether sure what to get you, and the satchel you've got is looking a bit out of shape. I didn't know whether or not you had sentimental value attached to the old one, and of course I should've asked Hugo and Allie..."

"It's beautiful, Murphy. Thank you."

I blinked, surprised at how heartfelt the reaction was. "You're welcome," I replied.

Nicholas peered over his shoulder at me the, considering. "I got something for you, too—and for Iana," he said, walking over to the other side of his desk. "I got Iana a baby mobile—you mentioned you wanted one for her, and I didn't know if..."

"It's perfect," I said, stepping forward, gasping at the characters from Beatrix Potter which all hung from it—Peter Rabbit, Benjamin Bunny, and Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail—and pulled the little lever attached to it. The theme song from the eponymous television series from the 1990's filled Nicholas's office, and I felt a wave of nostalgia flow through me. "It's beautiful, Nicholas, thank you."

"And for you," he said, setting the mobile down beside his new satchel, "is this," he said, and produced a pair of earmuffs, which I could swear were made of mink. "I know you don't like to wear hats which cover your hair completely, but then your ears show, and they get cold, which means they turn red..."

I reached out slowly then, touching the fur, and becoming lost at how soft it was. "You didn't have to do this, Nicholas," I whispered, locking my eyes with his. "After everything, I'm surprised I was even on the nice list this year."

"You'll always be on the nice list, Murphy," Nicholas replied, and I felt my cheeks heat when he raised his eyes to mine.

"Always?" I whispered. "That sounds like a long time..."

"If you do something right in your lifetime, it lives forever," he replied.

I shook my head. "I don't know if I'm doing anything right..."

He smiled. "You're human. That's normal."

"What about any of this is normal, Nicholas?"

He shook his head. "Nothing about this is normal."

I shook my head back at him. "I don't want it to be normal."

He nodded. "Neither do I."

Without fully understanding what I was doing, or, likely, the consequences that were attached to it by default, I threw my arms around Nicholas then. I felt relief come crashing through me then as he released my new earmuffs and pulled me to him then, our lips combining in a moment that was filled with pure bliss. As I felt the pull to open my mouth beneath his, I suddenly caught a glimpse of Josh's face in my subconscious, and the anchor around my neck, in the form of the necklace he had given me. As Nicholas attempted to escalate the kiss, I pulled away from him then, and shook my head.

"No, we can't," I whispered, and Nicholas looked as devastated as when he'd first found out that I'd slept with Josh.

"Why?" he whispered.

I shook my head. "Because it's not fair," I whispered. I made a grab for Iana's gift and mine, feeling as deserving as a snail without a shell. "None of this is fair, Nicholas, but we are supposed to be adults here. No matter what I might want, none of it should matter, because I am with Josh now," I said, turning away from him.

"He asked you to be his girlfriend?" Nicholas called after me. "Was that one of his many Christmas presents? Swearing to be yours?"

I nearly stopped myself then as I placed a hand on the door. "Whether or not it happened shouldn't matter to you, Nicholas," I said, hating myself for allowing my voice to break. "None of this should matter," I said firmly, opening the door to his office and walking out, down the hallway, and as quickly to the elevators as I possibly could, knowing that, if I turned back, even for a moment, I'd run back to him, and I couldn't do that.

. . .

Christmas Day and the day after passed as lazily and wonderfully as any long-term holidays should do, and it was quiet for the next three days after that. On the final day of the year, Ian and I were taking in some gooey romantic comedy—that fancied itself an action movie, although with large romantic overtones. Iana was between us, dozing slightly; having had her afternoon feed, she was content just to lie between us and vaguely listen to the film. She was seven months old now, and I wondered when she would begin speaking to any of us.

"You're quiet," Ian put in as a commercial came on. "All right?"

I sighed. "We never really got a chance to talk about the other day..."

"Christmas, you mean? When you came home all weird and barely ate your dinner?"

I crossed my arms. "I had mashed potatoes..."

Ian sighed. "That was Iana."

I bit my lip, lowering my eyes. "Oh, yeah..."

"So, did you go to Josh or to Nicholas?"

"Nicholas," I admitted, almost as if it was a defeat.

"Really?" Ian asked, sounding half-surprised. "I would've thought you would have dropped off his gift somewhere, and gone to Josh, and asked to talk to him about the future..."

I shrugged. "No. I went to Nicholas."

"So, tell me what happened."

I looked down at Iana then, stroking my daughter's head. "I do care about him, Ian," I said quietly, watching her sleep. "Hell, I maybe even have feelings for him..."

"But?"

"But, it's not fair to Josh," I replied. "I have this gut feeling he's working his way up to ask me to be his girlfriend. I know it's selfish, but I don't want to hurt his feelings..."

"Murphy, it's selfish for you, too," Ian said simply. "If you have feelings for something else, then you need to address that."

I scoffed. "I know," I replied, fishing my phone out of my pocket when it buzzed with a notification of some kind. "I know I have to..." I stopped talking then, seeing that it was a company-wide email, and I immediately clicked on it to open it, the red exclamation point of importance bearing into my soul.

 _Dear staff members and associates of Blomqvist and Torrance,_

 _We just wanted you all to know that on this day, Tuesday, December 31, our dear daughter, Charlotte, passed away from leukemia. She was diagnosed as a young girl, and has been living with this disease for over fifteen years. Never was there a day filled with complaints, or wishes to stay alive longer than she had._

 _When she was eighteen, Charlotte entered remission, and was cancer-free until just a little over a year ago, by which time she relocated from Los Angeles, to her hometown of Chicago. While in Los Angeles, Charlotte realized her dream of modeling, and was a fan favorite for her modeling agency, Fierce Flowers. It is very sad for us to lose her, at the tender age of only twenty-one, but we as a family are quite pleased that we had the opportunity to know her for so long. We think it was courageous of her to stop treatment, and to allow nature to take its course, and we commend Charlotte for coming to this decision on her own._

 _We will resume work on the second of January, and the funeral service will be held on the twelfth of that month, with a formal announcement in between for location._

 _We thank you for your best wishes in moving forward, and we will see you in the New Year._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Hugo Blomqvist,_

 _Allie Torrance,_

 _Nicholas Blomqvist_

"What's up?" Ian asked, seeing my shocked expression. "Murph? Say something," he said, and I couldn't fully absorb what was happening.

"She's dead," I whispered.

"What?" Ian demanded. "Who's dead?"

"Charlotte's dead," I whispered. "I... I need to see him. I need to see Nicholas," I said quietly, turning to Ian. "Do you think you could...?"

"Murph, you don't even need to ask," Ian said. "Go over there and see him."

I nodded, getting to my feet and running for the door, grabbing my coat, hat, scarf, and my earmuffs before running out of the house, shutting and locking the door behind me. I dashed to my car, nearly sliding on the ice separating me from it as I slid into the driver's seat. I got in and drove, recalling Nicholas's address, because something, for whatever reason, told me that he was home that day. Driving hastily—but not so hastily that a cop would pull me over—I arrived at Nicholas's condo in Uptown, twenty-five minutes away from my place.

The old-fashioned brick work just seemed so homey to me as I parked on the street, outside the building, and made my way through the black iron gate. Stepping through the small yard, I was able to figure out which door was his and made my way towards it. I knocked, feeling my heartbeat overtaking me then, and hoping beyond hope that Rachel or someone else hadn't showed up to the place before I did. It was only when I heard the familiar walk of Nicholas's footsteps on the other side of the door did I begin to have some hope, and when the door opened, I took note of his red-rimmed eyes, and my heart went out to him.

"Nicholas..." I whispered.

He sighed. "Murphy."

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, my voice breaking, and the tears entering my own eyes then, not wanting to see him in pain. "Charlotte was a wonderful person. I'm so, so sorry."

He nodded. "She was."

"I can't imagine how you're feeling right now," I said quietly. "But I just want you to know that I'm here," I told him.

"You're wearing the earmuffs," Nicholas said.

I nodded. "Of course I am. I love them."

He retuned my nod. "And you're here for me?"

"Of course I'm here, Nicholas. Why wouldn't I be here?"

He looked skeptical. "Why are you here?"

"Because I had to be," I replied, without even thinking about it. "Immediately, when I got the email, there was only one person I wanted to see, wanted to be with, wanted to comfort. That was you, Nicholas. I needed to see you."

He hesitated for a moment, almost as if he was torn between inviting me inside and slamming the door on my face. "What about it not being fair?" he asked. "Life."

I shook my head. "I realized a long time ago what wasn't fair and what was—and I found the second category to be very small," I said quietly. "In this moment, I don't want to discuss the things that are and aren't fair about life, because that would take too much time. What I did realize today was how short and unpredictable life was, and, at the end of the day, I need a little insanity in there to keep me sane."

"So, I'm like a drug to you?" he asked, a lighthearted chuckle escaping his lips.

"For lack of a better term, yes," I said simply to him. "You are like a drug to me, Nicholas Blomqvist. And, for the life of me, I can't understand why you would put up with me, with all of this back and forth, and I'm sorry that I've caused you all this pain."

He bit his lip. "Do you want to come in?"

I nodded. "Yes. But I don't know if you should let me."

"Why?" he asked.

I sighed. "Honestly?"

He nodded. "Honestly."

"Because, Nicholas, if you let me in there, all I'm going to want to do is kiss you—and possibly repeat our exploits in the office."

Nicholas shrugged. "Doesn't seem like such a bad thing."

I shook my head. "The problem is, I'm not going to be able to stop, once I cross the threshold, if you let me in," I replied. "I can't do this anymore—restrict myself from what I want. And, in this moment, I want to be here, with you..."

Nicholas yanked me forward then, across the threshold, and plastered his lips on mine. "I don't want you to stop, Murphy," he said through his teeth then, forcing his tongue in my mouth, which caused a moan to escape my lips, as he slammed the door behind us. "I don't ever want you to stop," he said, practically dragging me down the hallway and up the stairs, to his bedroom, and I felt our hearts mutually hammering between us. "Don't ever stop keeping me on my toes, because, after today, I don't think I could ever let you," he proclaimed, throwing me down on his bed and retrieving a condom.

And as I gripped his bedding, turning my head into one of his expensive pillows to keep crying out from the pleasure he brought me, Josh crossed my mind momentarily. There was no guilt in what I was doing, I decided then; no, it was never guilt. It was the notion that Nicholas and I had something that Josh and I didn't, and the sooner I figured out what that something was, the sooner I could move on with my life and get onto the same page with everyone in it.


	8. Mutual Denial

Chapter Eight: Mutual Denial

I get into the firm at the correct time on the first of January, still shell-shocked at the notion that Charlotte is truly gone. Trying to push past how vulnerable Nicholas and I became that night—which had trickled into the next morning, when I'd finally driven home—I knew that, once and for all, I couldn't allow myself to be that way. I wasn't an emotional person; I'd kept my emotions in check for years, while living under the tyranny of Dr. Normal and Tina, and I could not allow myself to falter, at any moment, ever again.

I give Rachel a half-hearted smile as I bustled past, and she mutely handed over my messages without asking me how my holiday was, or even asking about Iana. Making my way down the hallway, I ducked into my office quickly, seeing that the light wasn't on in Nicholas's office yet, and feeling instantly relieved that I wouldn't have to deal with him yet. Stepping inside my own office and flicking on the light, I made my way inside, shutting the door behind me, and placed my stuff down on the surface of the desk. Sitting in my seat, I switched on my computer, and regulated my bag to the floor, and tried to focus on the messages and any incoming emails that I would have to deal with.

About half an hour into my email correspondence, I got a text from Josh. Feeling relieved that he wouldn't be able to judge my tone from a text, I picked up my phone and scrolled through the conversation history. _So far_ , _so good_ , I thought to myself, accessing the latest message and doing my best to remain calm.

 _Hey_! _Just wondering if I could see you for lunch today_?

 _Sure_ , I wrote back, hoping that he was excited at the notion of seeing me, and that nobody of merit had seen me doing the walk of shame out of Nicholas's condo. _How's noon_?

 _Noon's perfect_! _What are you hungry for_?

 _This bistro by the courthouse is always delicious. I'll send you the directions, okay_?

 _Sounds great, Murph_! _See you at noon_!

I crossed my fingers that he wouldn't drop some kind of negative bombshell on me as I continued with my work. It was around eleven o'clock that I finally got some correspondence from Nicholas, and my cheeks immediately flooded with heat as I accessed the email. My computer decided to deliberately be slow in that moment, and I found myself drumming my fingertips along the surface of the desk, until such a time that it decided to make itself ready. I felt instant gratification when it did, although my stomach dropped when I read the contents of the email he'd sent.

 _I assume you have lunch plans with Josh today, Murphy, so I'll make this brief. I would very much appreciate it if you could come to my office before you leave, say around eleven-thirty, to discuss a matter of importance_.

He didn't sign the email, and the distance and the formality behind his tone scared me, and yet I wondered then, as I'd never considered before, that, now that he and I had slept together at his condo, that perhaps he was going to air on the professional side at work. No matter what the reasoning, I hoped it was for that reason alone that he was speaking to me in such an arms-length sort of way, but I pushed the thought from my mind, and spent the next half hour catching up on my latest research for the Farris case, which was starting in March. Finally, the time had come and I got to my feet, making my way out of my office and towards Nicholas's.

"Come in, Murphy," Nicholas called, and I stepped inside, and he gave me a polite smile as I stepped inside, shutting the door behind me.

"Is something wrong?" I asked him.

Nicholas shook his head. "No, Murphy. Nothing is wrong. Please, sit down," he said, and I moved to sit, feeling his eyes on me with every step I took. "Have a nice remainder of your vacation?" he asked.

I bit my lip, but my cheeks didn't stop from flaming, and I inwardly swore at myself for allowing my body to physically react to his words. "Fine," I replied. "Iana is doing well. She absolutely adores the mobile."

"I'm glad," Nicholas replied, waiting for me to sit before he sat as well. "I wanted to let you know that my mother and father have asked me to speak to various members of the firm in terms of what to expect for Charlotte's funeral."

I felt the color in my cheeks returning to normal then, relieved that we weren't going to discuss me spending the night with him. "Oh, I see," I said, giving him a faint smile. "Of course. If you need anything, just let me know."

"We were actually hoping to put in an order for half a dozen pies from Fiona's restaurant, if that's not too much trouble," Nicholas replied.

I nodded. "I'll let Fiona know tonight—I'm going to see her after I pick up Iana from daycare," I explained carefully. "She may ask me to make them, but..." I shrugged. "I know my way around a pie pan, so it likely won't be a problem."

"That means a lot to my parents and I, Murphy, thank you," he said softly. "They would also appreciate it very much if you would consent to help us with the planning and preparations with the funeral," he went on, his tone delicate. "Lucas is unable to leave Los Angeles, due to the filming schedule being changed unexpectedly, so we're short a pair of hands. Charlotte thought so highly of you, and it would mean the world to my parents if you would help."

I nodded. "Of course I'll help," I replied, wanting to reach forward and to take his hand, but somehow managing to restrain myself. "Whatever you need, Nicholas, I'll help you."

"Thank you," he replied, checking his watch. "I'm sure you wouldn't want to be late for your lunch date, so we can speak more later, Murphy."

"All right," I replied, getting to my feet, moving as quickly as possible towards his door.

"I meant what I said, you know," he called after me.

I turned around. "What?" I asked.

"I don't think I could ever let you stop keeping me on my toes," he said, smiling, his tone and expression innocent enough.

I nodded. "All right," I said, noncommittally, before leaving his office.

I arrived at the bistro about five minutes ahead of Josh, taking the assigned booth by the window and staring into my glass of iced water. I lifted the cool drink to my lips and sipped at it, not knowing what to expect in this lunch date with Josh. Ever since Christmas, he too had been slightly distant with me, and I was unsure as to what the meaning was. I turned and looked as the main doors opened a few short moments later, and smiled automatically when Josh stepped inside, finding me quickly and indicating to the hostess that he was meeting me.

"Hi," he said, cool from the outside as he bent down to kiss me on the cheek. "Sorry I'm late—a patient was asking so many questions. What can you do?" he asked, giving me a quick smile before sitting across from me. "How are you?"

I nodded. "Fine. Considering... Well, you know. Charlotte."

He nodded. "I met Charlotte on a number of occasions growing up. Lovely young woman, and a wonderful model. Such a shame, the disease."

I nodded. "I haven't seen Allie or Hugo yet," I said quietly. "I wouldn't be surprised if they've taken a few personal days, leading up to the funeral."

Josh gave a nod. "The date has been set?"

I reached out, picking up my water glass. "Yes. The company email said the twelfth," I said quietly, "and I've been asked to help."

"By Allie or Hugo?"

"Through Nicholas," I replied.

Josh, who had picked up is own water glass, had to lower it, as he was gripping the tumbler in a dangerous manner. "I see."

I raised my eyebrows. "What?"

He sighed. "I know we haven't really discussed it, Murph, but I get the feeling that you two may have had something, at one time in the past..."

I scoffed. "Me and Nicholas?" I demanded, shocked at how convincing I sounded. "No. We're barely friends, Josh. Trust me," I said, flashing him a smile. "There's nothing you need to worry about. We're co-workers, and I'm a friend of his family. I told him I would help out with the funeral, but only because of my relationships with Allie and Charlotte."

"So, you two, you never...?"

I sighed. "A few times, before you and I were serious," I said quietly. "But it didn't mean anything, I promise. It was just mindless fucking."

Josh nodded. "Okay. Okay, I believe you."

I nodded. "Good."

"I only ask because... Well, because I want to be exclusive," he said, and I felt my eyes widen when he said that. "I want to be exclusive, and I was afraid that I stood to lose you if Nicholas was seen as a romantic conquest..."

I smirked, which cut him off. "There can't be anything romantic between Nicholas and I, Josh, and that's because of how fucked up we both are," I replied. "You get two insane people and put them together, and the outcome is that the relationship will be crazed. You take an insane person and a sane person, and the sane person keeps the insane one in line, while in insane person helps the sane person have fun."

Josh grinned. "There are rules to sanity?"

I nodded. "When you're a Gallagher, there are," I reply.

"So, my question here is," Josh said softly, "do you want to be exclusive? Do you want to be my girlfriend? Do you want me to be your boyfriend?"

I laughed. "That's three questions."

Josh nodded. "I know."

"Well, then I'll say, yes, yes, and yes," I replied, hoping beyond hope that I was actually doing the right thing. "I'll be your girlfriend, Josh."

. . .

"Without hesitation?" Fiona asked, when I came to Patsy's Pies later to tell her everything. "He asked you? You're officially Dr. Josh Fairfax's girlfriend?"

I laughed, hunching my shoulders. "Yeah. I'm his girlfriend."

"So, how'd he react when he found out you'd spent the night with Nicholas just twenty-four hours ago?" she asked.

I lifted my pie milkshake to my lips, sucking on the straw awkwardly.

Fiona's dark eyes widened. "You didn't tell him, did you?"

I sighed, lowering the milkshake to the table. "Well, I tried to, but Josh said what happens in the past stays in the past," I said quietly. "He said that, before we were exclusive, we could've done whatever we wanted without consequences."

My sister raised her eyebrows. "Sounds more like he's attempting to justify his own behavior, Murph, not just yours."

I looked over at Iana, whose mouth was covered with the juices of some mashed peaches that Fiona had given her. "Something tells me that that should bother me..."

"Doesn't it?"

I turned back and looked at her. "No. No, it doesn't... Is that a cause for concern, that I'm not jealous about my boyfriend's past?"

Fiona shrugged. "Maybe you're the only Gallagher with a mature bone in her body."

I scoffed, shaking my head. "Remember when I first found out that I was a Gallagher?" I asked her, and Fiona smirked at the memory, which seemed like it was only yesterday. "I ran away to Mexico, and got knocked up by my twin brother's ex-boyfriend and first love. Trust me, that's the prime definition of immature..."

Fiona smiled. "Maybe you've learned."

I shook my head. "Not that quickly."

Fiona folded her hands on the surface of that table. "So, what about Nicholas?"

"Well, he's got Charlotte's funeral to plan..."

I nodded. "Right, right. He'd like me to put in an order for six pies for the funeral, which is being held on the twelfth. I can come in that Saturday, the day before, after closing, and make them. If that's cool."

Fiona nodded. "Sure, it's cool. How about you come by with Iana, and I'll take her to my place for a couple of hours? I have some of her things over there. Then, when you're done, you can text me, and I'll come back with your car."

I smiled. "Thanks for doing this, Fi."

Fiona reached across the table. "You're a Gallagher," she replied, taking my hands in hers, "a Gallagher I didn't get the opportunity to raise. It makes sense that I'd be doing you favors now, doesn't it?"

. . .

I got a text from Josh later that afternoon, after I was watching over Liam doing his homework, and holding Iana in my lap, waiting for Ian to get home after making a quick trip to the store. As I checked my phone—making sure that Iana didn't inadvertently press any buttons that would end up as a garbled text message—I saw Josh's name pop up and immediately pressed the screen to open the text. Biting my lip, the words staring at me across the screen, I wondered if there was something I was missing behind them.

 _What better way to celebrate us being official then by you spending the night_?

I raised my eyebrows, typing back a reply. _Ian went off to the store. I'll check with him to see if he minds watching Iana for me and I'll get back to you_.

Josh's reply came quickly. _Sounds like a plan_!

I waited anxiously for Ian to get home and when he did, Liam immediately sprang up to help him unpack the groceries. I got to my feet, placing Iana in her day bed and walking into the kitchen, making sure that Liam could reach some of the higher places, as well as to be sure that he wouldn't accidentally misfile anything. I remained silent, listening to Ian's small talk and waiting for Liam to be bored with the conversation and, once he was, he drifted into the living room and switched on the T.V.

"How was your day?" Ian asked.

I sighed. "Interesting."

"Yeah?" he asked, handing me one box of cereal after another, which I quickly placed on the proper shelf in the cabinet. "Tell me."

"Well, I had a meeting with Nicholas..."

Ian smirked. "A meeting or a desk?" he asked.

I punched him in the ribs, and Ian reacted by putting me in a headlock, and I found it was difficult to speak without laughing. "Unless you want breast milk in your eye, mister," I say, lifting one of my breasts to prove a point, "you'll surrender now."

Ian laughed, but managed to overcome his pride and let me go. "So, I take it that the meeting was a professional thing?"

"Personal—not _that_ kind of personal!" I said as Ian's eyebrows went up and down. "He just asked me to help out with Charlotte's funeral."

Ian raised his eyebrows. "He asked you?"

"On Allie and Hugo's behalf," I said, pushing past him and moving to empty the rest of the grocery bags. "I didn't mind. I said that I would."

Ian crossed his arms as I turned to face him, armed with various jars of beans and sauces, which I moved to put into the cabinet. "What does helping with the funeral entail?"

"Fiona's letting me use the diner's kitchens to make some pies," I reply.

Ian scoffed. " _You_ can make pie?!"

I grinned. "Not that you've ever asked, but yes. My crust is out of this world," I said, laying it on just a bit thicker than necessary.

"Why haven't you made pie before?"

"Well, Fiona owns a freaking diner that sells them," I replied. "Why would I want to compete with her? She's our sister."

Ian shrugged, acknowledging that. "Did he mention the other night?"

I sighed. "Inadvertently."

Ian nodded. "Oh." He looked at me closely then as I continued placing the jars into the cabinet, almost as if he was attempting to decipher a hidden meaning on my face. "So, what else happened today?"

"Josh asked me to be exclusive."

"Before or after you told him about the funeral?"

"After."

"Hmmm," Ian said, not letting anything on. "And—let me guess—you said no, because you're madly in love with Nicholas and your new year's resolution was to be more considerate towards the people around you," he said, and I turned to look at him, and he smirked as I continued to glare at him. "Am I right?"

I shook my head. "Wrong."

"Oh, really?"

"You're wrong," I continued, "because I am not in love with Nicholas. I said yes to Josh because he's the better bet. And he asked me to spend the night with him tonight."

"Are you going to?"

"That depends," I reply.

Ian crossed his arms again. "If I babysit, right?"

I sighed. "Yes."

Ian ran his hand through his hair. "I'll babysit, Murph, but I really don't think you should be going over there."

"Why?"

"Because you don't love him, and I don't think you can," Ian said simply, placing his hands on my shoulders. "You don't love Josh."

I rolled my eyes. "So?"

"Do you even like fucking him?"

I yanked away from Ian. "Come on..."

"Does he even make you—?"

Immediately, I slammed my hand over his mouth, feeling myself shaking. "Don't ask me that question, Ian."

Ian wrestled out from my grip. "I'll bet Nicholas makes you come," he said underneath his breath, and I turned away from him. "He does, doesn't he? And it's unlike anything you've ever experienced, but you're scared, so you make yourself believe that you're blind to it, because to admit it, you think you'll lose a part of yourself, right?"

I shook my head, turning back to look at him. "Doesn't matter. Now, will you watch Iana for me tonight, yes or no?"

Ian sighed. "I think you're making a big mistake."

I dragged my hands through my hair. "That doesn't answer my question."

"Yes, I'll babysit her," Ian replied.

I sighed, walking towards him then and hugging him. "Thank you," I said quietly. "And I know what I'm doing, Ian—really."

"Just hope you're sure," Ian replied as I let him go, and moved to go upstairs.

. . .

I spent the next several days preparing for Charlotte's funeral, and helping the Blomqvist family in any and all ways that I could. Things with Josh were progressing well, although it still bothered me that I felt no feelings of jealousy towards his past. I also found that my mind seemed to switch to nothing mode whenever he touched me. Sometimes, in fact, I seemed to just find his touches annoying, but I didn't want to hurt his feelings, so I simply endured the touches because I felt I was supposed to.

On the night before Charlotte's funeral, I met Fiona at Patsy's Pies at closing with Iana, and my sister took my daughter and my car over to her place. I walked around the restaurant for a moment, feeling a feeling of freedom as I walked through the emptiness of the place. Soon, I made my way towards the back, to the kitchens, and saw that Fiona had left me little notes, letting me know that the fruit had been pre-sliced and put into the fridge, and the flour and sugar and other dry ingredients were on various countertops.

I smiled, finding an apron and rolling up my sleeves before putting my hair up into a ponytail and washing my hands. It was only around eight o'clock, and the funeral wasn't until two p.m. the following afternoon, plus the kitchen had quite a few ovens, so I hoped I wouldn't be back there too long. I saw that apples, blueberries, strawberries, peaches, and marionberries had been pre-selected and put into the fridge for me, while there was plenty of baking chocolate as well, for me to make a chocolate crème pie. As I worked, flour smudging my face, I barely heard my phone go off and when it did, I managed to swipe the green phone icon and put it onto speaker mode to hear better.

"Yeah?" I called into it.

"Murphy, it's Nicholas."

"Hey!" I said into the phone. "I'm at my sister's diner, making the pies."

"It's still open?" Nicholas asked, incredulous.

I laughed. "No, they close at six on Saturdays. I'm just working on the pies here."

"Josh with you?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No. He's working most of this weekend."

"Want some company?" he wanted to know.

I smiled, knowing that it likely wasn't a good idea, but the idea of company with the distraction of cooking would make it a less bad one. "Sure," I replied. "Let me know when you're here and I'll let you in."

Nicholas arrived ten minutes later, laughing when he saw the flour smudged onto my cheeks as I showed him the back and into the kitchen. "Nice set-up you've got here," he replied. "I'm not very good at baking, but I'm great at washing dishes."

"Great," I said. "The soap is there, and the rubber gloves are beneath."

"What kind of pies have you made?" Nicholas wanted to know.

"A chocolate crème pie, an apple, and a blueberry so far," I replied.

"What's next?" he asked, snapping on the gloves. "It looks like you've made a beautiful crust over there."

"That's going to be a marionberry pie," I explained, feeling a little proud that someone had complimented my pie crust. "Then, I'll make a peach pie, and then a strawberry one, and then I can call it a night."

"They all sound delicious," Nicholas said with a smile, turning on the water and waiting for it to heat up. "They smell really good, too."

"Glad you think so," I replied. "I know many people may not want to eat, but maybe the pies will convince them otherwise."

Nicholas smiled. "You're right," he said, picking up a whisk and scrubbing at it. "I never thought it'd be this easy..."

"What exactly?" I asked, scooping the marionberries into the bottom of the pie crust.

"Getting over my sister's death," he replied. "I've accepted it, and I think it's because we knew it was coming, we just didn't know when."

I nodded. "I see."

"She recorded video messages—for me, our parents, and for Lucas," Nicholas explained. "She was happy, because she knew it was going to end soon... Not her life, but the pain she felt, both physical and emotional, because of what she was going through, but of what she felt she was putting us through as well," he went on, finishing with the whisk and moving on to a mixing bowl, which he scrubbed. "She actually thought that she was hurting us—of course, it only hurt us to see her in pain, and when she chose this solution... I don't know," Nicholas went on, shrugging slightly, "I guess I was glad she had come to it, on her own."

I smiled, picking up the top half of the pie crust and fitting it over the marionberry pie. "Well, I'm glad you accepted her decision to stop treatment. We had to study cases like that, back in law school," I said quietly. "Some parents just feel like there are going to be never-ending solutions, and it's almost as if they don't want to listen to the child's pain. They feel like if they just try one more time, then their child will be all right. They have to consider the child in those situations, and not just what they want."

"Exactly," Nicholas replied.

We finished working in virtual silence, and, after a few more moments of primping and preparing it, I put the marionberry pie in the oven and started on the peach one. I peeked over at Nicholas, and was shocked that he had managed to complete half of the sink load of dishes as I continued to work on this pie. Smiling to myself, and remembering that there was truly one last pie after this I found I was saddened at the prospect of parting ways with Nicholas. It had never been like this—we were always fighting, or having an awkward conversation, or just being overly emotional and having sex. _This, that night, this was different_ , I thought to myself as I finished the peach pie, and as Nicholas finished the dishes and washed his hands. I kept working, moving onto the strawberry pie—which I would put into the oven at the same time as the peach one—and, when it was done, I felt even more saddened.

Turning around, I put the peach and strawberry pies into the oven, and moved to remove the chocolate crème pie, the apple, and the blueberry pie to cool. I checked on the marionberry pie, seeing it still needed some time, before shutting the oven door. I turned back to Nicholas then, and he smiled at me, and I felt warmth fill my face.

"Flour," he said quietly, picking up a fresh paper towel and wetting it, before crossing the kitchen towards me, and wiping it gently off my face.

My eyes locked to his, and I could detect that our heartbeats were beating erratically due to us being so close to one another. I bit my lip, just staring at him, waiting for the inevitable to happen, as it always did. I gasped aloud then as Nicholas dropped the paper down and pulled me at full-force towards him, capturing my lips with his, and as mine opened beneath his, I found I never wanted him to stop touching me, but I also found that I couldn't continue without feeling somewhat disloyal.

I pulled back then, keeping my eyes down—I wouldn't be able to handle it if I saw the pain behind Nicholas's eyes. "We can't."

"Why?" he whispered. "After you found out about Charlotte, I thought..."

"Yeah, so did I," I said, feeling the pain seeping into my voice as I raised my eyes to his. "But we can't. Josh..."

Nicholas sighed, catching my meaning. "He asked you, didn't he? He asked you to be his girlfriend? I'm right... I'm right, aren't I?"

I nodded. "Yes. You're right."

Nicholas sighed. "Shit... So, what are we going to do?"

"Nicholas, you're a great guy, but it's not just about Josh," I said quietly. "We also have Iana to consider in all of this."

"I'm crazy about Iana," Nicholas replied.

I shook my head at him. "You said you never wanted children," I reminded him. "And besides, I have her safety to consider..."

Nicholas stepped away from me. "You don't trust me?"

I shook my head again. "No, I don't," I replied, and the fact that that was an honest to god truth shook me then. "I don't trust you, Nicholas, and the fact that you'll resort to temper tantrums whenever Josh and I are brought up in the same sentence is a cause for concern."

"Because I don't want him to..." Nicholas began. "It's because I..." He shook his head then, his eyes turning neutral again. "Never mind. It's not important."

"Nicholas..."

"No," he said, stepping away from me and walking out into the restaurant.

"Nicholas!" I called after him, running now, feeling something flowing through me then—I think it was akin to anguish—as I followed him. "Don't go."

"Why?" he demanded, pushing open the door before turning around. "So that you can continue to toy with whatever this is?" he asks, gesturing between us. "I'm fucking sick of it, Murphy, and considering that you've been wearing _that_ ," he said, pointing to the necklace that Josh had given me for Christmas, "I think it's clear that you've made the decision as to who you really want to be with."

I shook my head. "Please..."

"No," he said firmly. "I'm done."

I reached out then and took his hand. "Don't leave like this."

Nicholas sighed, a flurry of emotions passing through his face then as he saw my expression, and lowered his eyes to our hands—clasped, like lovers. "I have to, Murphy," he replied. "You're Josh's girlfriend now. I can't stand playing second to him," he said, his voice filled with regret as he walked out of the diner and into the night.

. . .

Josh and I drove to the funeral the following day, the pies in the back seat, and made small talk until we arrived at the community center in the gated community that Hugo and Allie lived in for a reasonable amount of time. Josh was only too happy to help me carry the pies into the back, and said that he would let Hugo and Allie know that I was there as I set them up. I had made little place cards indicating the flavors, hidden by the crusts, and, as I set them up, Josh moved to leave, kissing me on the cheek as he left.

"Wow. So much love there."

Looking up, I saw Nicholas emerging from the shadows of the opposite hallway, and I sighed, feeling instantly reassured that Josh had left for the event room. "Look, Nicholas, I'm sure you're upset at how last night ended..."

"Are you?" he asked.

I gave him a pained expression. "No shit!" I hissed through my teeth, moving to arrange the place cards in front of the proper pies. "Look, I know things are bound to be complicated, but I know we can get through today, okay?"

Nicholas sighed. "I just miss my sister, Murph..."

I looked up at him, and sincerity dripped from his voice, and his expression was masking some horrible pain. "Nicholas..." I said, walking across the room and hugging him. "Hey, listen to me right now, okay? Things are going to be fine. You have all those memories of her, and the video she left for you. I know it's going to take some time, but you're going to get through this, because you're strong. I know how strong you are, Nicholas, and I also know that you have the support of your family, who know exactly how you're feeling. You'll all get through this and turn out okay. I promise you."

"What the fuck?"

Immediately, I stiffened, and backed off, looking down the hallway to see that Josh had retuned to check on me, and immediately I felt angered that he was jumping to conclusions, and the wrong one at that. "Josh," I whispered.

"Hello, Joshua," Nicholas said, his tone clipped.

Josh stamped into the room, his high-priced shoes like thunder. "What do you think you're doing with my girlfriend?" he demanded, his voice angry, and directed at Nicholas.

I stepped forward. "Josh, this isn't prom or something," I said, moving to stand in between them, hating that I was playing referee. "Charlotte's gone. Don't you think she would've wanted the two of you to work it out?"

"Can't we work it out, man?" Nicholas asked. "It's not like we have to go through life as best friends or anything..."

"Best friends?" Josh demanded, his voice still angry. "You expect me to even entertain that idea when your arms were wrapped around my girlfriend?!"

"I may be your girlfriend, Josh, but you don't own me!" I said, raising my voice. "I should be able to hug whoever I want!"

"Not someone who's so obviously in love with you!" Josh yelled.

"In love with her?!" Nicholas demanded. "What Murphy and I had is long dead, Josh, and it's not even what you think."

"Oh, really?" he asked.

Nicholas scoffed. "Murphy and I are barely friends, Josh. Trust me," he said, and I felt as if I'd been stabbed in the gut. "There's nothing you need to worry about—trust me on this one, man, really. We're co-workers, and she's not even my type."

Josh blinked. "Not your type?"

Nicholas shook his head. "Not. My. Type," he replied, each word feeling like the knife was being twisted. "There can't be anything romantic between Murphy and I, Josh, and that's because of how fucked up we both are," he said simply.

Josh sighed. "Well, that's good to hear..."

"Yeah," I said, plastering a smile upon my face, even though it felt like my face would break from all the pressure it was under—pressure that was there to keep myself from crying. "It's all great to hear. Well, now that I've finished with the pies, I'll just go out there and greet Hugo and Allie, then," I said, pushing past the both of them and walking out.

"She seem weird to you?" Josh asked as I left.

"Women all seem weird to me," Nicholas replied as I turned the corner. "Something tells me that we guys'll never get used to it."


	9. In and Out of Line

Chapter Nine: In and Out of Line

As I arrived at the firm a week later, I was already dragging my feet at the notion that Nicholas and I had already began our work again on the Farris case. The notion of being in the same room with him, after what he'd said about me to Josh at Charlotte's funeral had pushed me. I was, however, thankful that the breaking point hadn't been reached, and all I wanted to do was air on the side of professionalism. Needless to say, Josh and I had hit a stumbling block, and his texts to me, constantly apologizing for his behavior, weren't helping matters.

I slipped into my office quickly, wanting to at least attempt to focus on my preliminary notes, in preparation for my meeting with Nicholas later that day. Focusing wasn't happening, due to my monologue of inner torment, and all I could think about was Nicholas, just on the other side of my wall, and what had driven him to those comments. The fact that they were, word for word, what I'd said to Josh on the day that Josh asked me to be his girlfriend, unsettled me, and I wondered then if Nicholas had followed me, or if it was just a coincidence. Even still, I did begin to wonder if they'd hurt him at the time he'd heard them, but I hastily pushed the thought from my mind—they couldn't have hurt them, because, clearly, I was nothing to him.

Just an hour before Nicholas and I were due to meet, I saw on my office phone that Rachel was calling me. I felt my teeth gritting automatically, wondering if I'd even asked her to hold all my calls, which is what I usually did whenever I was working on something pressing. Nevertheless, I reached out and picked up the phone, not wanting to see rude to her, because she hadn't ever done anything...not really.

"Rachel?" I said, keeping my tone neutral.

"Sorry to bother you, Murphy," she said carefully. "But there's someone here to see you, and he's got flowers—red roses, your favorite."

"Is it my brother?" I asked, wondering if Lip had lost his senses again.

"No, he's not a member of your family," Rachel replied.

 _That narrows it down_ , I thought to myself. "All right, Rachel. Who is it?"

"Your boyfriend," Rachel replied. "He says he's your boyfriend, Josh."

I sighed. "All right, he can come back," I said, although it was truly against my better judgement as I go to my feet, hanging up the phone as I smoothed my suit. I made my way over to the door, opening it just as Josh rounded the corner. "Come on in," I said, allowing him inside.

"Wow, your office is amazing," he said, looking around.

"You had flowers delivered here," I said quietly.

"Yes—the key word being 'delivered'," Josh said as I shut the door. "I've never actually seen the place," he went on, nervously holding the flowers, in yet another crystal-cut vase. "I got these for you," he said awkwardly.

I sighed, crossing towards him. "Thanks," I replied, my tone clipped, taking them and placing them upon a shelf. "How can I help you today, Josh? Need legal advice?"

Josh sighed. "No," he replied, "nothing like that. I just came here to apologize, face to face. I seem to recall my texts not working."

I crossed my arms. "Well, that's because they're just words on a screen," I replied. "The problem with modern technology is the notion that one could apply any tone to the words they're reading, and their meanings could be taken in so many different ways. Sure, you say you're sorry, but I don't know if you mean it sincerely or sarcastically."

Josh nodded, fully absorbing my words. "I can understand that," he said quietly. "I'm sorry, Murphy, for the way I acted at the funeral. It was a huge overreaction, and it'll never happen again. I promise."

I nodded. "Well, your comments were pretty hurtful," I replied. "And the biggest thing was that you were treating me like you owned me. This isn't the Dark Ages anymore, Josh, and you've got to understand that if we're going to be together, this has got to be an equal partnership. Plus, I have Iana to consider, and she comes first. Always."

"I know I was out of line, completely," he said softly. "Just the notion of you hugging that son of a bitch, Murphy, it set me off."

"Don't call him that!" I burst out because I could stop myself, and Josh looked surprised. "He's a very good attorney, Josh, and, once you get to know him, he has the capability of being a pretty stand-up guy. Just, let this feud die," I said quietly, "because, for the foreseeable future, Nicholas and I are going to be working together, and if you can't handle that, then walk out of this office and don't come back."

Josh gave a stiff nod then. "Well, normally I'd say we're at an impasse, Murphy, but I think if we can agree to keep most work things separate from our relationship, then I think I can accept you standing up for Nicholas."

I returned his nod. "Sounds like a plan," I replied.

"Hey, Murph!" said Nicholas then, pushing open my office door, and looking slightly surprised at seeing Josh there. "Oh. Hey, man," he said.

"Hey, Nicholas," Josh said, turning to me. "I'll call you later, then?"

I nodded. "Sounds good," I replied.

Josh then hesitated for a moment, before crossing the room towards me and yanking me towards him, kissing me on the mouth. He didn't register my discomfort in the motion, or he likely just didn't care, and then he released me. "I'll see you soon," he said, his eyes gleaming in a moment of triumph as he walked out of my office door.

Nicholas sighed. "Really?"

I sighed, pulling out my phone and putting it onto camera mode, relieved that Josh hadn't ruined my lip gloss—only my pride. "What?" I demanded, impatient.

"He's your fucking boyfriend, Murphy—and you hate it when he kisses you?"

I glared at Nicholas, feeling the rage ebb through me. "Shut the fuck up," I replied, crossing back to my desk and retrieving my notes for the case. "Absolutely none of this is any of your business, Nicholas, considering how fucked a person I am," I said, shoving past him and making my way to the conference room.

. . .

Nicholas and I made excellent headway in the Farris case, considering we weren't speaking about anything else, and by the first week of March, opening arguments had begun. Josh and I had also mended fences, and I'd like to say that things were looking up, were it not for the notion that I still felt nothing whenever he touched me, kissed me, or when we had sex. I did my best to play the part of a doctor's girlfriend, really I did, but even I thought that I was forcing things, and as much as I wanted to heed Ian's advice and attempt to break things off, the overwhelming notion that Nicholas didn't care about me continued to fester in my mind, and so my relationship with Josh continued.

It was on the second of March that I tried to get in touch with Josh, to ask him about our date night that week—and the possibility of me staying the weekend—when his response caught me off guard. I was driving to pick up Iana from daycare and Liam from school, and the lukewarm Monday felt like a symbol of my life. As I looked over my text to him, I thought things seemed normal, but it was his reply that sent me into a tailspin.

 _Hey_ , _Josh_! _Hope Monday is going well for you_. _I was wondering what you wanted to do this weekend_ , _and if you just wanted to do a date night or a weekend sleepover_. _Let me know_!

 _Hey_ , _Murphy_. _Sorry I didn't say anything last weekend but I can_ ' _t make any commitments this weekend_ , _unfortunately. We_ ' _re doing some training and bringing in some new doctors_ , _and I said I_ ' _d work some doubles_. _Will let you know if anything changes_. _Call you later_.

I felt perplexed at this brush off, but felt determined not to let it affect me as I arrived at Iana's daycare to pick her up. Slipping from my car, I walked up the stairs and into the building, smiling at Rebecca when I caught her eye and stepped into the room. I felt immediately at ease when Rebecca fetched Iana and handed her over, and the warmth that I felt when Iana put her arms around my neck comforted me more than anyone ever could. As Rebecca handed over Iana's bag, I awaited the daily report with excitement.

"Iana had a wonderful day," Rebecca said, reaching out and rubbing my daughter's back. "We had some lovely tummy time earlier, and she's crawling around excellently."

"Ooh, boy," I said, thankful that Ian and I had spent the entire previous weekend completely babyproofing the house, due to her home exploits. "Ian and I put up the safety gates over the weekend," I explained, "although Liam's annoyed with them."

Rebecca laughed. "Just make sure if he wants to jump over them to get downstairs, that he's careful about it."

I nodded. "Noted," I replied, putting Iana's bag in a more secure position on my shoulder. "And she ate okay today?"

"Yes—she absolutely adores the mashed peaches," Rebecca gushed. "They've really become her favorite, and I'm sure you keep them around the house."

I nodded. "Ever since my sister, Fiona, gave her some, we have," I affirmed. "I never liked peaches myself, so maybe it's a trait she picked up from her father..."

"You never mentioned her father," Rebecca said, not intrusively.

I let out a small laugh. "Yeah. It's a...touchy subject..."

"Touchy?"

I bit my lip, pressing my face into Iana's head, inhaling her natural baby smell, which was always a perfect antidote to ease the inner tension. "Yeah, he... Well, you know that my brother, Ian, is gay."

Rebecca nodded. "Yes, of course. You authorized that his boyfriend, Trevor, was okay to pick up Iana from here."

"Yeah, well," I said, knowing that the convoluted way in which I got pregnant with Iana was still tough for certain people to handle, "I didn't know that the Gallagher's were my family until I was twenty-one, after I moved here. I was adopted."

Rebecca smiled sympathetically. "Oh, I see."

"I was actually dating Lip—my older brother," I said, feeling uncomfortable mentioning it, but wanting things to be out in the open once and for all. "So, as I'm sure you can imagine, when I found out that he and I were... Well, I panicked."

Rebecca nodded. "Sounds reasonable. I can't imagine."

I laugh aloud then. "No, not many people can," I said quietly. "Anyhow, I ended up taking a few days off from work and driving down to Mexico to get out of my head for a while, without telling my family that they were my family, or where I'd gone. When I was down there, I met Iana's father, and that's when I got pregnant."

"But you brought up your brother, Ian," Rebecca said, circling back to the point at hand. "What does he have to do with you getting pregnant?"

"That. Well..." I rolled my shoulders, hoping the discomfort at the betrayal I'd still felt I'd committed would eventually go away. "Iana's father is actually Ian's ex," I said quietly. "He and this guy were together a real long time..."

"Oh," Rebecca said, raising her eyebrows.

"And he's...wanted," I said, clearing my throat awkwardly in the middle of the sentence. "That's why I don't want to talk about him. Due to his record."

"Ah, I see," Rebecca said, smiling at me. "Well, we've all got something, Murphy. I'm sure there are people out there that have it far worse."

I smiled. "I'm sure, too," I said, checking my phone. "Well, I've got to run and get Liam before he calls the police to report me missing."

Rebecca laughed. "We'll see you tomorrow, ladies."

"Thank you," I said, throwing Rebecca a smile as I walked out of there.

. . .

"Avoiding you?" Fiona asked as I sat across from her at Patsy's Pies, watching me as I drowned my sorrows in a slice of chocolate crème. "What do you mean?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe now that I said I'd be his girlfriend, and both Nicholas and I have confirmed that there's nothing between us... Maybe now he's lost interest. Now that the threat is gone and the excitement he felt leading up to him asking me to be his... Ugh," I said, spooning more pie into my mouth. "I have no idea..."

Fiona's brows knitted together. "He talking to you?"

I made a face. "Barely," I said, looking down at the slice of half-eaten pie. "Just a text every few hours or so."

"Does it bother you?"

I smirked. "Only that he's not communicating," I replied. "Ever since we've been exclusive, I've been loyal—really I have."

Fiona sighed. "I know you know we don't really do the whole security camera thing in here, but I'm still your sister, Murph."

I took another bite of the pie as she said this to me, giving her an odd expression. "What's your point?" I asked, my mouth half-full.

"I know there's no way in hell you could've made six pies _and_ washed all those dishes in less than two hours," she said quietly.

I hunched my shoulders forward, watching Iana chew her mashed peaches from the corner of my eye, and wondered then if they were organic or not. "Yeah?" I said softly.

"My gut is telling me that you had someone around to help you. Someone that left a dish soap scent all over the apron you borrowed."

I locked my eyes with Fiona's then, my cheeks flaming. "Is that the owner talking, or my sister talking?" I asked her.

She sighed. "I'm both," she told me. "I don't mind if you had some help that night, Murphy—the kitchen was in excellent condition when I looked it over. All I'm asking is, are you really being as loyal as you think?"

I lowered my eyes. "I stopped it..."

Fiona leaned forward then, as if she could better catch my words. "What?"

"I stopped it...before it could get completely out of hand," I replied, staring down at my half-eaten piece of pie.

"With Nicholas?" Fiona asked.

I sighed. "Yes."

"Not that I'm complaining," she said gently, as I raised my eyes to hers, "but you usually go to Ian with situations like this. Why are you telling me? I thought it was a twin thing..."

"Because then I'd have to admit that Ian was right," I replied.

"Right about what?"

"Right about..." I gritted my teeth. "...my feelings towards Nicholas..."

Fiona grinned. "Wait. You have feelings for Nicholas?" she asked, looking back towards the kitchen for a moment before leaning towards me again. "Did you two...?"

"No!" I cried out. "We've only ever done it at the firm...and then after Charlotte died I went to check on him..."

"Wait. You went to his place?"

I sighed, placing my head into my hands. "Fuck. I fucking spent the night with the fucker," I moaned, slamming my head down upon the table, thankful that I saw Fiona's arm quickly move forward to swipe the pie out from under my head.

"Was it...good?"

"My sexual history has been as weird as you can think," I said to her, and sighed, picking my head up. "I mean, with Jessica, I never really knew—I never let her," I said, and lowered my eyes to my crotch, and Fiona nodded, understanding. "And with...Lip and Mickey, it was only the once, so I had nothing to compare it to. With Lip, I'd had a bad day, so I was pretty much consumed by that, so I barely remember it. And, with Mickey, I was drunk, so I hardly remember it happening at all..."

"How are things with Josh, in the bedroom?"

I scoffed. "He's too...tentative," I said, wrinkling my nose.

"Tentative?" Fiona asked, laughing.

"It's like he's afraid he's going to hurt me or something—I'm not a fragile creature! I'm durable, I guess," I said, shrugging. "And then he's always bringing the conversation back to Nicholas, and ever since he found out we've slept together, I think he wants to compete, but he only knows how to be gentle. I don't want gentle sex, Fiona, I don't. I want...passion..."

"You...like it rough?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know."

"How does Nicholas go about things?"

I flushed again, lowering my eyes. "Rough," I admitted.

"And you like it?"

I massaged my temples, disbelieving as to how we'd managed to go from Josh's complete lack of communication to how I enjoyed my trysts with Nicholas. "Best I've ever had," I said, my voice hollow, as I knew I didn't want to admit it completely.

"Are you just going to let that get taken away from you?" she asked.

I sighed, picking up my glass of water. "I've made my bed," I said, regret peppering my tone completely. "Now I've got to lie in it, don't I?"

. . .

I was in court for the rest of the week, and I had to admit, the legal team hired by the Farris family did an excellent job at painting Paul Farris as an outstanding citizen. Since Jackie Farris had agreed to testify against her father, and armed with various statements from local upstanding psychologists, it had been proven beyond a reasonable doubt that she had been manipulated by her father in a successful manner and, combated with the disturbing video evidence I'd found of the years of abuse, Jackie was found less culpable by the jury. She would be sent into a hospital for evaluation, and, once it was decided what the best course of action would be, she would be in therapy for the rest of her life. But, at last, she was free of her father, whom she had requested not visit her while she was getting treatment.

"Josh taking you out tonight?" Nicholas asked casually, after Judge Gresham—a close friend of Judge Whitmore—had left, followed by the jury, Paul Farris, and his legal team, had left the courtroom for the day. "It's Friday night."

I shook my head. "Likely not. He's busy with training," I replied, feeling awkward at making small talk with Nicholas, after everything.

"Ian expect you home at a decent hour, then?"

I raised my eyes to his and fixed him with a look, shaking my head. "Ian may be my twin, but he's certainly not my keeper."

Nicholas shrugged. "My mistake," he said, lifting the satchel I'd bought him for Christmas onto our table, and I gasped, noticing that he was using it for the first time. "Something the matter now?" he asked, taking note of my expression.

I shook my head at him. "No, it's just..." I bit my lip, lowering my eyes and proceeding to shove my various notes back into my own bag. "You're using the satchel I got you. I didn't realize you liked it so much."

"I thought it was time for a change."

"Oh, yeah?" I said, my tone noncommittal, as I continued to keep my eyes down. I fished my phone out of the side pocket of my bag, irritated that I had no new messages, before shoving it back inside. "How's that?"

"By replacing my old bag with my new one." He hesitated for a moment, and I could feel his eyes on me as I pretended to organize the last of my papers before I put them into my bag. "It actually belonged to my father."

"Hugo?" I asked.

"No. Henry," Nicholas replied, and, immediately, I raised my eyes to his, feeling like an idiot at just assuming it was Hugo's. "My biological father."

I gave a short nod. "He still living?"

"Died two years ago," he replied. "I was settling his estate before I came to the firm, full-time, after I graduated law school. I was only part-time, in the beginning, but after I settled his affairs so quickly, my parents decided to take me on full-time."

I nodded. "My biological mother died, a couple of years before I came here and managed to find everyone," I said quietly.

"You didn't get a proper goodbye, then?"

I sighed. "Not a proper one, I guess, no. She left me a note," I said, a small, bitter laugh escaping my lips then. "She apologized, for giving me up, essentially saying she'd given up the wrong baby for adoption."

Nicholas knit his eyes together. "Wrong baby?"

"Yeah," I said, slinging my bag onto my shoulder. "Ian isn't Frank's biological son, even though Frank raised him." I shrugged. "Guess Monica—our mom—figured out too late that I was the bio kid, and I guess wished there was a trade..."

"You think things turned out right?"

I sighed. "Honestly? Yeah. I think the best case scenario would've been if Monica hadn't dumped me into the system in the first place, and kept me with my siblings. Sure, she walked out and Frank drowned himself in alcohol, but Fiona stepped in for the rest of my siblings, and got custody of them. I think I could've done better with her as my guardian, than by putting up with the parents I ultimately got saddled with."

Nicholas sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Hey," I said, shrugging, "it is what it is. What can you do?"

"Want to get a drink?" he asked.

I felt my brows coming together then. "No funny business?"

He nodded. "Cross my heart."

"Fine," I said, walking out. "We can go to the bistro and wine bar across the street."

. . .

I felt like a creepy ex-girlfriend type over that weekend, when I finally resorted to social media stalking Josh. It was quite a surprise to me when I saw the name Chrissy Andrews popping up on a few of his feeds, and checked her out immediately. It turned out that Chrissy was one of the new doctors at the hospital, and she was actually in a lot of training sessions with Josh during the last few weeks. However, the more weeks that passed, the more intensive training got, meaning that Josh figured that he could just come and go as he pleased; and when he wasn't with me, or training, he was hanging out with Chrissy.

I may have wandered by one of their haunts—a sushi place close by the hospital—and casually walked by a few times. Staring in, seeing them laughing over chopsticks and spicy tuna rolls or whatever it is people at sushi restaurants ate, I was quick to see the way she was looking at him, and the way he was looking at her. It was the way he'd first looked at me in the early days, and the way she looked at him was a way I'd never looked at Josh, and a way I could never looked at Josh. Shaking my head, I pocketed the information and decided to take the long way home, merely to get lost in my thoughts.

I stopped at the grocery store on the way, puttering along from aisle to aisle, feeling relieved that I could wear sneakers that day, as opposed to my heels. I made a grab for a few things—boxes of pasta, cans of beans, cereal—just to hold us until mid-week. Grocery shopping, I'd found, was a relaxing way to spend your time, and it had the possibilities within it to distract you, when one of the main focuses in your life was falling apart. It wasn't the fact that I thought that Josh was cheating on me that got to me; it was all of his assurances that I was the only girl in his life that I thought back to. I mean, I'd given up my extracurricular activities with Nicholas, but now he thought he could just step out on me?

Pushing the thought from my mind, I went to the check-out counter, getting out my credit card and placing my grocery items onto the conveyer belt. I made small talk with the check-out person, and they told me to have a nice day, one I'd paid, and they'd bagged my groceries and handed over my receipt. Loading the bags into the car was another distraction, and as I continued on my drive home, I hoped that Ian would be around to help me bring them into the house and unpack them in the kitchen.

"Hey!" I said, coming into the house when I arrived twenty minutes later, and I saw Ian in the living room.

"Put those down! We're in here!" he called.

I rolled my eyes, setting down the bags and shutting the door behind me. "What's up?"

"Just, stay there," he said, and, as I looked around the couch, I saw that he was holding onto Iana's hands, which were gripped tightly to his thumbs, as she looked over at me. "Look at what this little lady can do!"

"Ian...?" I asked, lowering my eyes to my daughter.

"Iana, go to Mama, like we practiced!" he said, and took a step forward, which Iana mimicked perfectly, and so began my daughter's first steps, all the way over to me, with Ian holding her little hands.

I laughed aloud then as Iana stepped over to me, catching her up into my arms and kissing her on both cheeks, watching as Ian went into the front room, gathering up the groceries. "Well, _this_ was certainly a good surprise!" I said with a grin.

"Yeah?" he asked, proceeding to unpack the groceries. "Sounds to me like you had a bad one today. Anything you'd like to talk about?"

I sighed. "Normally, I'd say yes, but I should probably gather more information and get back to you on that."

Ian hesitated, turning around and looking at me. "Am I going to have to punch somebody out for hurting you, Murph?"

"Hey!" I said, nodding down at Iana. "She could start talking at any minute, and we don't want her picking up anything..."

"Oh, she'll pick up something," Ian replied, an amused gleam in his eyes.

"I'm serious," I said, firmly, looking down at her. "Iana, do you want to say something to Mama or Uncle Ian?" I asked her.

Iana pressed her lips together, her brow furrowed, like she wanted to say something, and wanted to say something good. "Mmm..."

"Mama?" I asked her then, feeling pathetic as I resorted to a parenthood trope. "Do you want to say 'Mama', Iana? Say 'Mama'!"

"Mmm... Ma-ma," Iana said, her dark eyes widening then, almost as if she couldn't believe that she'd managed the feat. "Mama," she said again, raising her voice, and grinning up at me, as if she had done the impossible. "Mama!"

"Hey!" Ian said, walking over to her and grabbing her feet, which he shook in a moment of celebration and happiness. "Congratulations, Murphy—your baby said something that only 0.1% of babies say."

I turned to Ian, raising my eyebrows. "What?"

"99.9% of babies say 'Dada' first," he explained. "You didn't know that?" he asked, turning back to Iana then, looking amused, for her sake, I hoped. "Strange—seems like something Josh would've mentioned to you..."

I let out a burst of laughter then. "He tells me plenty, Ian," I said quietly, and Ian raised his eyes to mine, to attempt to figure out what I was hiding, but I deliberately kept my eyes glued to my daughter, for I didn't want to believe that any of what I assumed was happening was true, for I needed good evidence first.

. . .

It was one week later, when I still hadn't heard from Josh, that I found I couldn't stand it anymore. At first, I considered ambushing him at his apartment, but I thought that a sneaky approach would be my best bet. I placed a call to him, biting my lip as my anticipation grew, and waited, listening to the rings, wanting it not to be true...

"Hello?" answered a sprightly voice.

"Hi, I'm sorry to bother you," I said, not sounding suspicious at all. "I'm a friend of Josh's, and I was just looking for him..."

"Oh, I see," the woman replied. "I'm Chrissy."

"Oh, you're Chrissy," I said, laughing. "Nice to finally talk to you."

"Josh is asleep next to me," she said then, letting out a giggle. "For a doctor's he's a hell of a heavy sleeper," she said.

"Asleep?" I said. "Oh. I see. Well, I didn't need anything," I said quickly. "I was just calling to say hi. I'll be going now."

"Wait," she said. "Who is this?"

Quickly, I hung up the phone, not wanting to be subjected to an interrogation as I got to my feet and decided on what to do. I'd already showered and prepared for bed, so I immediately took off my pajamas and pulled on a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a cardigan, stepping into my shoes and leaving Iana asleep in her crib. I put a baby monitor by Ian's bedroom door as I slipped down the stairs, socks and sneakers in my other hand, my phone tucked beneath my chin, and my keys inside my mouth. As I stepped outside into the cool, spring night, I quickly put on my shoes and socks, locking up behind me.

 _Where are you off to_? came Ian's text as I got into my car.

 _Don_ ' _t ask_ , I replied. _Be home soon_.

Driving down the road, I barely detected the cool that I felt then, wondering if such a feeling would last as I drove into the Uptown area limits. The twenty-five minutes had breezed by, and I had my heartbeat to keep my occupied as I parked across the street from the building. Getting out of my car and locking it, I pocketed my cell phone and walked through the black iron gate, making my way up to the proper door and knocking surreptitiously upon it.

When he opened it, standing there in all his handsome glory, he looked as if he would turn me away from there, but he caught my expression then, and he hesitated. He was waiting for me to speak, but then considered speaking himself, wondering if I wanted him to be the one to break the ice. When the decision was made, there was no going back, especially since I'd driven all the way over here, and things were to happen, I was sure of it.

"Murphy..."

"I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I know you thought things would be different after Charlotte passed and I'm so sorry that I couldn't just let myself..." I sighed, not getting to the place where I wanted, but also knowing that I had to press on. "Look, I just found out tonight that Chrissy, that girl that Josh is training with?"

Nicholas crossed his arms. "The one who looks like a supermodel with the I.Q. of a turkey and has no business being in a doctor's office, or a lab coat?"

I scoffed then, amused that Nicholas was aware of the notion of the domesticated turkey being a particularly unintelligent animal. "Yes, that one..."

"What about her?"

I sighed. "They're sleeping together," I replied. "I asked him about it this week, when we met for lunch, on Wednesday..."

"And?" Nicholas asked.

"The son of a bitch fucking lied," I said, throwing up my hands. "All I know is, I just wanted to see you and talk to you. But, I just..." I hopped down from the step then, shaking my head. "I don't want to bother you with something so insignificant..."

Nicholas hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, just outside the threshold. "It has to do with you, Murphy. That in itself makes it significant."

I scoffed. "Why would you care?" I whispered, feeling the hot tears escaping my eyes then. "I mean, I'm so fucked up..."

"Murphy, _I'm_ just as fucked up as you are," he replied.

I shook my head. "The things that I've done..."

"They don't matter," Nicholas replied, stepping outside completely then and reaching out, his hand illuminated in the porch light.

I stared down at his hand for a moment, seeing it as a chance for happiness, as well as a chance for evening the score, and found myself at a loss for what to do. "Nicholas..."

"Hey, he did it first," Nicholas joked, as if we'd just had a minor playground tussle. "It's about what you want, too, you know. I know you're a go-getter in your life, Murphy. The question is, are you going to go after it?"

I raised my eyes up to his, knowing that my wall of self-containment was beginning to crumble and that, perhaps, Nicholas had the key to breaking it completely. "I'm going after it," I replied then, stepping back up then, and feeling relieved when he wrapped his arms around me, and I threw my arms around him, my heart in my throat as we kissed, and I made no moves to push him away, or to deny either of us, as he pulled me inside, slammed the door, and half-carried me upstairs to the master bedroom.


	10. Why Not Me?

Chapter Ten: Why Not Me?

The notion that I officially had to juggle my responsibility for Iana, a murder trial, and not one but two men in my life was the understatement of the century. The rest of the month of March continued, the trial having moved on from opening arguments to key people in Paul Farris's life testifying both for and against him as the trial continued. It seemed that money could buy you friends, but it also made you enemies, and it was clear to see where the lines in the sand were drawn as the trial went on.

In the first week of April, Nicholas and I were thrown when Paul Farris's lawyer requested to speak to the judge, and he and I immediately moved to follow him. As we clustered around the judges' pulpit, curiosity ebbing off of the two of us, we turned to look at the lawyer, Franklin Schmidt, who thought he was pretty slick, and had even implied more than once that I belonged in a kitchen and not a courtroom. I was pleased that Nicholas moved automatically between the two of us, not wanting him to smack me, as he'd attempted to do more than once to my ass when he was convinced I was merely an assistant to Nicholas and not a full-fledged attorney.

"Your Honor, I've just received word this morning that Pamela Farris would be very interested in testifying in this case," he said smartly.

Nicholas and I looked at each other, and I immediately nodded for him to speak. "Your Honor, as you well know, Miss Gallagher and I were unaware of this."

"Not to mention the controversy attached to it, Your Honor," I said quickly, "what with the notion that the proposed witness is married to the suspect."

The judge sighed; Judge Gresham, although excellent at his job, was not nearly as patient as Judge Whitmore was, and didn't seem to really like lawyers at all. "I am well aware of the fact that you and Miss Gallagher were unaware of the proposed witness, Mr. Blomqvist," he said, leaning forward then. "However, I enjoy a little controversy in my courtroom, and so, I shall throw in an incentive your way."

"Yes?" Nicholas asked.

"Should Mrs. Farris act belligerent in any way, I give you leave to question and treat her as a hostile witness," Judge Gresham replied, pulling his notes forward. "Now, when will Mrs. Farris be arriving?"

"She will be here after lunch, Your Honor," Schmidt replied.

"Excellent," he said, checking his golden pocket watch, which just made the entire situation seem all the more archaic. "It's nearly noon now, so we'll resume at one for the questioning of Mrs. Farris. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Schmidt, Nicholas, and I said.

"Court is adjourned for lunch," Judge Gresham said as we three retreated back to our tables, and he slammed his gavel down from within his pulpit before returning to chambers.

"Thirty minutes back to my place from here," Nicholas said quietly to me, and I looked over my shoulder at him, feeling like an idiot for grinning up at him. "It would take far too long, because the minute we got there, we'd have to turn around." Nicholas regarded me then as I bit my lower lip, in an attempt to provoke him. "The firm is only ten minutes away, and we could say that we were picking something up... That is, if you're not hungry..."

"I'm starved, I'll admit," I whispered back, putting the last of my belongings in my bag, "but not for food, I'm afraid."

As we walked towards the double doors to take us out of the courtroom, I saw through the window that the sun was shining, causing me to have a lightness in my step that hadn't been there in the weeks leading up to Nicholas and I resuming whatever it was we had. As we came to the entrance doors, however, and stepped outside, I felt the lightness inside me suddenly thundering to a halt, when I saw Josh pacing back and forth at the base of the stairs. I turned to Nicholas then, and he hesitated for a moment.

"Your call," he said quietly.

I sighed. "I don't know..."

"Talk to him," Nicholas replied, and my eyes widened. "It's okay. Yes, he fucked up and is a total asshole, but see if he explains himself."

I rolled my shoulders, secretly happy that Nicholas was villainizing Josh, despite the fact that he and I were guilty of the same crime. "All right," I replied. "I won't be back late."

Nicholas sighed. "Okay. Let me know how it goes," he said, slipping back into the courthouse, presumably to eat a vending machine lunch, which immediately made me feel guilty.

I stepped down the stairs, my heels making a distinct sound on the concrete stairs, and as I approached him, Josh smiled, and I thought I detected some guilt, but not readily so. I stepped forward then, plastering a smile onto my face as always, and extending my cheek so that Josh could kiss it. "How are—?" I asked him, but it is all I managed to get out.

Josh looped his arm around my waist then, pulling me at full-force towards him, and leaned down to kiss me with what I assumed was passion, although I still felt nothing. "I've missed you so much, Murphy," he proclaimed. "I know it's been a minute, and I'm so sorry for that, but I can't not train," he said with a laugh, as if he firmly believed that laughter was the best medicine there was.

I blinked, wondering if he was going to give me the fucked argument about eating an apple a day, and just kept right on smiling. "I get it," I said. "Work is important."

"Anyhow," Josh said, putting his arm around my shoulders and carting me along, "I'd like to take my beautiful girlfriend out to lunch. Am I allowed?"

I let out a burst of laughter then, knowing how pathetic this all was, yet somehow forced myself to keep in line with him. "O-of course, Josh," I replied, hating myself for stumbling over the language I'd been speaking for over two decades. "Let's go to lunch."

Josh and I walked across the street to the bistro and wine bar, and we were placed in a two-person booth by a window. I felt relieved whenever the wait staff came by, and had a particularly long conversation about the special of poached salmon, drizzled with a lemon aioli, and served with a side of green beans and oven-roasted potatoes. As I sipped my water after Josh and I had ordered a chicken Caesar salad and a roast beef sandwich respectively, Josh looked slightly uneasy as we sat there.

"Seemed petty interested in the salmon..."

I shrugged, feeling my shoulders hunching forward automatically. "Just because I don't eat fish doesn't mean I don't want to hear about it."

Josh looked intrigued. "I thought you hated fish."

I nodded. "I do... But I've heard there are several good sushi restaurants in the area," I replied then, seeing Josh immediately looking away from me, hoping to find something to change the subject with. "I mean... I guess there are..."

"Sure, sure," Josh replied, chugging down his water like a guilty man. "So, that case is blowing up pretty good," he said quietly. "How's that going?"

"He's guilty," I said. "What else is there to know?"

Josh nodded. "You seem pretty sure about that."

I scoffed then, sipping at my water. "Of course I'm sure. My professors always said I was good at sussing out the guilty party. Must be a gift or something."

"Is it limited to the opposing side of a courtroom?" Josh asked, his voice nervous.

I smiled at him then, knowing that, in that look, he would know that I knew something, but wouldn't want to call me out on it, for risk that he would be caught. "Oh, of course not. We lawyers have to be trained to look at anyone, and I mean anyone, who could be out there, hiding something from us. Just something we have to deal with accordingly."

"Accordingly?" Josh wanted to know.

I grinned. "Yeah. Snip-by-snip."

Josh paled at my words. "Don't you mean, 'Bit by bit'?"

I laughed then, glad that he got my meaning. "Oh, of course. Sorry, court is exhausting when you're trying a man for murder. But, yes. Bit by bit."

. . .

"How was lunch?" Nicholas asked casually when I returned, about five minutes before the questioning of Pamela Farris was supposed to begin.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, I let him know that I know," I said quietly.

Nicholas raised his eyebrows. "You told him you knew he was cheating on you?" he asked, a touch of relief in his tone.

"Not in so many words," I replied.

"Well, what did you—?" he asked, cutting himself off as soon as Judge Gresham's door opened and he entered the courtroom.

"All rise for the Honorable Judge Gresham," the bailiff said.

Nicholas got to his feet as I remained on mine. "This isn't over, then?"

I peeked over at him. "Don't you think I know that?" I hissed back.

Judge Gresham returned to his pulpit in an orderly fashion in a sweep of his black and white robes as he sat down. "Be seated," he said, and we as a whole retuned to our chairs. "We will begin questioning with Pamela Farris this afternoon. Send her in, please."

Nicholas and I automatically turned around as the doors were opened, and Pamela Farris stepped into the courtroom.

She was all done up, almost as if this were a Hollywood film; her platinum blonde hair was not an inch out of place, and her deep red lips popped out against her milk-white skin. She wore large sunglasses and an equally large hat, as well as fine leather gloves which reached up just past her wrists. As she stepped in, I got a good look at her dress—black—which hugged her slim figure, which looked as if it didn't appear to have any ill affects of childbirth. Her high-priced black heels clicked menacingly upon the highly-polished, wooden courtroom floor, and as she walked towards the witness stand, she quickly drew off her hat, sunglasses, and gloves, and placed them upon the shelf before her, before turning back to the bailiff, as if everything about this was a pageant.

"Raise your right hand and place the left upon the book," he ordered her, and Pamela Farris did so, her red nails a shocking red to match her lips. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?" the bailiff asked her, his voice overtly sharp, as he held out the bible, in a moment that made me wonder if all bailiffs had to be god-fearing men.

"I do," Pamela Farris said; her voice was husky, like an old Hollywood film actress, and not at all what I expected.

"Be seated," the bailiff replied, withdrawing from her.

Pamela Farris moved to sit, crossing her legs and likely placing her hands upon her lap as she directed her attention to Franklin Schmidt.

"Please tell the court where you were on the tragic night in question," Franklin said, and I looked at Nicholas and rolled my eyes at the theatrics, and he smirked.

"I was visiting my mother in Bridgeport, Connecticut," Pamela Farris replied. "I was born there, but we moved to Paris when I began high school for my father's job. My parents divorced, and I remained there with my father while my mother returned to hers and my father's hometown. My mother is very ill, and I visit her often."

"Can anyone but your mother confirm or deny that you were there?"

"About three hundred people, give or take," Pamela Farris said softly. "My mother had a benefit dinner to attend to, but she was so ill, she couldn't go. I went in her place, while the night nurse attended her."

"What do you think about these charges brought up on your husband?"

"They're preposterous," Pamela replied simply. "Paul and I knew just how disturbed Jacqueline was when she was very young. If only we had done something about it..."

"Objection, Your Honor," Nicholas said, getting to his feet. "I realize that Mrs. Farris is speaking about her own daughter, but she is not a medical professional, and it's utter slander."

"Sustained," Judge Gresham said. "The jury will disregard Mrs. Farris's comments directed at Miss Farris, on the grounds that it is slander and that she is not a medical professional."

Franklin Schmidt visibly bristled at the judge going against him, and did his best to recover himself without being too obvious. "What would you say your relationship, and marriage, with Paul Farris has been like, Pamela?"

"Wonderful, absolutely," Pamela Farris replied, blushing like a girl, and I wouldn't have been the least bit surprised if she pulled out a lace fan. "He was always kind and attentive to me, and I had everything I ever wanted."

"Thank you, Pamela," Franklin Schmidt replied, before turning to our table. "Your witness," he said to the two of us, and Nicholas nudged me, allowing me to question Pamela.

I got to my feet then, knowing that I had to convince my jury in the line of questioning that Pamela had to be hiding something. "What was your relationship like with your father-in-law, Mrs. Farris?" I asked.

Pamela sighed then. "Well, he was often away for business, in the first seven years of our marriage, so I didn't really know the man, at first," she said quietly. "Then, after Paul inherited the company, he was around more."

"Were you friendly with him, then? Could you say that you thought highly of him, as a person, or even as a family member?"

Pamela shrugged. "I don't know. He wasn't big on talking, and even when he did speak to me, it was all about how I didn't belong in the family, and that I should leave while I still could. And then I got pregnant with Jacqueline, and he said it was too late."

I raised my eyebrows, wondering if Paul had ever shown abuse to anyone other that Jackie in his entire life. "Did your father-in-law ever get violent with you, Mrs. Farris?"

Pamela looked visibly sickened and shocked by the question, and vehemently looked as if she would scream. "Absolutely not!" she cried out, and shook her head. "I can't ever recall a time that he even touched me. We never hugged, and I never kissed him on the cheek, nor he me. We did not have that kind of relationship."

I nodded. "All right, Mrs. Farris, all right." I hesitated for a moment, waiting for her to calm herself down before I continued. "What was the benefit dinner you attended in Bridgeport, Connecticut in your mother's stead?"

"It was for the Red Cross," she replied, obviously more at ease with the topic. "My mother has been supportive of them from before I was a little girl. It was how she and my father met."

"Your father was a veteran?"

"Objection! Relevance?" Franklin said.

"Withdrawn," I replied, quick on my feet. "You mentioned your mother had a night nurse. Did she keep other staff in her home?"

"Your Honor—" Franklin cut in.

"Goes to just how many people could confirm her whereabouts the evening of the murder, Your Honor," I replied.

"Overruled. I'll allow it," the judge replied. "Answer the question, Mrs. Farris."

"My mother employs a housekeeper, a kitchen staff of three people, a personal maid, and a groundskeeper," she replied, "not to mention her bodyguards, of which she has at least a dozen, stationed at various entry points of the home. All live somewhere on the estate, which came from my mother's family, which she inherited."

I nodded, knowing that that wouldn't help. "And do you resent or blame your daughter for the abuse your husband inflicted upon her?" I asked, gazing at her.

"Your Honor, I object!" Franklin Schmidt screamed.

"The tapes were entered into evidence and approved by you, Your Honor," I replied, smiling at Judge Gresham. "You've given my team leave to question witnesses about them, without any forms of restriction."

"I want to hear this, Mr. Schmidt," Judge Gresham said, turning to look at Pamela. "The witness will answer."

Pamela looked visibly uncomfortable then, almost as if she had been backed into a corner. When she turned to look at Paul, I walked in front of her line of sight, crossing her arms; she was not permitted a security blanket whilst on the stand. "Well, of course I resented her!" she suddenly screamed then, getting to her feet. "Paul was my husband—he was _mine_! She just waltzed in and took him from me!"

I raised my eyebrows as I listened to what she was saying. "Are you aware, Mrs. Farris, that Jackie was just twelve-years-old when the sexual abuse began?" I asked, the absurdity of her words seeping into my voice.

"She may have been twelve, but she was a woman, and Paul was weak!" Pamela said. "I couldn't give him another child, and so he took to drinking, and keeping long hours. He couldn't help it, and then there was Jackie, with all of her feminine wiles... She tricked him! Tricked him!" she suddenly screeched then, wagging a finger at me. "I see you, too! I see you—shaking your hips at Paul, trying to turn him into yours—well it won't work! Not again!" she yelled, launching herself off the stand then and grabbing me, her hands going around my throat, a maniacal look in her eyes, as she strangled me, as I fell to my knees from the impact.

"Your Honor!" came Nicholas's scream then, as my vision fizzled in and out, and, suddenly, the pressure upon my neck was gone, and I was struggling to breathe. "I hardly think she was a suitable witness, Your Honor!" he continued, and suddenly I felt strong hands on me then, and as I opened my eyes, I saw Nicholas's face, and I was so shocked that I was actually letting him hold me like this, in public.

"Your Honor, my client is clearly under some distress—"

"Some distress?!" Judge Gresham thundered as Nicholas attempted to help me to my feet. "I'm surprised at you, Schmidt! I want her examined immediately!"

"But, Your Honor—"

"Immediately, Schmidt!" he yelled. "Allowing her to come in here and attack an attorney. Such a thing should be unconstitutional!"

"My client was provoked, Your Honor—"

"And if you dare to attempt to blame Miss Gallagher for this, Schmidt, you'll be censured faster than you'll ever believe," he said. "Court is adjourned until Monday," he said, slamming down his gavel and withdrawing.

Nicholas moved us out of there, asking a bailiff to come along with our things in the next few moments as he sat me down on a chair in a conference room. "Hey, you okay?" he asked, his dark eyes filled with concern.

I nodded. "I'll be fine," I said, running my hands over my throat.

"Can I get you anything?"

"Water," I whispered, as a bailiff entered with our things.

"Could we get some water, please?" Nicholas asked.

The bailiff nodded, setting down our things quickly and taking a look at me. "Of course," he said, slipping back out.

"You know, I gotta admit, I was pretty... No. I was fucking scared when she put her hands on you, Murphy," Nicholas said.

I blinked, just staring at Nicholas for a few moments. I thanked the bailiff when he returned with my water, sipping it, and found it killed the burning sensation in my throat ever so slightly. "You were?" I finally managed to ask.

"No shit," Nicholas replied. "And then when you finally opened your eyes..." He shrugged. "I don't know—it was like I was brought back to earth again..."

I smiled. "That's sweet, Nicholas."

"I'm not saying it to be sweet," he replied, his tone serious. "And then when you looked up, and saw that it was me who was holding you, protecting you..."

"What?" I asked. "What's so special about a look?"

"It was the way you looked, Murphy."

I shook my head. "Come on," I said, turning away from him and sipping my water. "I wasn't looking at you in any special way..."

He reached out then, placing his hand on my shoulder, and I physically reacted to him touching me, prompting me to slowly turn my head around to look at him again. "You looked at me like, I don't know, like you cared...about me."

I just stared at him then, wanting so much to come clean, before the moment passed and I shook my head, letting a small burst of laughter escape from me then. "Of course I do. I mean, I don't want you to get hit by a bus, Nicholas. Come on."

Nicholas withdrew his hand then, nodding. "Of course," he said. "Hey, listen, I managed to fire off a text to Ian from your phone about what happened."

I raised my eyebrows. "My phone has a passcode on it."

He nodded. "I know."

I crossed my arms. "And how did you manage to guess it?"

Nicholas scoffed. "Please. Your number is 4-2-6. It's your brother's name. I've seen you type it in, and it's pretty easy to assume that it would be 'Ian'."

I smirked, lifting the cup of water back to my lips. "Not the first brother whose name I've had as a passcode," I said quietly.

"Which brother?" Nicholas asked.

"Lip," I replied.

He looked perplexed. "You hardly talk about him."

I shrugged. "Long story."

"I've got time," he replied, but, suddenly, there was a flurry of activity outside the door then, and Nicholas stepped back just in time for Ian, Fiona, and Josh to all come streaming into the room, a look of concern on each of their faces. "Well, I see you're well looked after here," he said, and gathered up his things. "I'll go now."

"Nicholas?" I called after him, and he turned around.

"Thank you," I said, as I was unceremoniously pulled into hug, after hug, after hug. "Thank you for keeping my safe."

Nicholas nodded. "It's my job," he replied, walking out.

"Oh, my god, I can't tell you how scared I was!" Josh cried, yanking me into his arms.

"Ow! And I'm still sore!" I said, ending on a laugh—now was not the time to spout anger at him, I knew that. That could come later.

"Jesus, Murph, what happened?!" Fiona demanded.

"Nicholas said you were attacked?" Ian wanted to know.

I sighed. "The murder suspect's wife, Pamela Farris, was questioned today, and Nicholas let me question her," I replied. "She became unhinged when I got to a question about her husband's sexual abuse of their daughter, and flew off the handle."

"Flew off the handle?" Josh asked.

"What does that mean?" Ian demanded.

I picked up my head then, wondering if they could see anything. "This," I replied, gesturing to my neck, and they all three looked shocked.

"Bitch!" Fiona whispered.

"What the fuck?!" Ian demanded.

"She's going to fucking pay," Josh said.

"She's getting evaluated, don't worry," I replied, rubbing my neck. "But court was excused until Monday, so all I want to do is go home, eat some greasy takeout, and see my daughter. If that's not objectionable to you."

"You're taking this well," Ian said a few moments later, after Josh had gone back to the hospital, and Fiona went to bring my car to the front of the courthouse.

I chuckled. "All things considered," I replied.

Ian pulled me around then. "I knew something was going on with you, Murph. Why aren't you telling me what it is?"

I sighed, remembering the last time I didn't talk to Ian in front of the courthouse, when I told him we were brother and sister. "It's complicated."

Ian crossed his arms. "Come on, Murph. Don't give me that. We're twins. You know I'll get it out of you eventually."

I shook my head. "I don't know..."

"Murph. Come on. Please. You said you wanted to wait and tell me whatever it was until you had the proof."

I nodded. "You're right. I did say that."

"Do you have proof?"

I bit my lip. "I have what my gut tells me is proof, but I don't know if that's enough."

"So, tell me. We can decide together."

I looked up at Ian. "Josh is cheating on me," I said quietly.

Ian immediately looked angry. "That son of a—"

"Wait," I said, moving in front of him to make sure he didn't do anything stupid. "Before you say anything, you should know that I'm guilty, too."

Ian raised his eyebrows. "Murphy?"

"The night I found out that he was with someone else..."

"That girl Chrissy, who's been plastered all over his social media for weeks?" he spat, and I raised my eyebrow at him. "Okay, so social media stalking runs in the family. Don't judge me, okay, Murph?"

I shook my head. "No judgement. Promise."

"So, it's Chrissy, then?"

I nodded. "Yeah. It's Chrissy."

"How did you know...?"

"I saw them on a date," I replied, "and, one night when I called him—the night I snuck out of the house close to midnight—Chrissy picked up his phone..."

"Wait, what?" Ian demanded.

"Yeah. Picking up his phone and said, 'Josh is sleeping right next to me'. I hung up without telling her who I was."

"Wouldn't the caller I.D. tell her?"

I shook my head. "Josh hates that. He says it takes away the mystery."

Ian rolled his eyes. "What a douchebag." He hesitated for a moment then, looking around for Fiona and, when he didn't see her, turned back to me. "So, when you found out that Josh was cheating, you ran over to Nicholas's place?"

I nodded. "I did."

"And you've been sleeping with him?"

I sighed. "Yes, since I found out."

"Have you been sleeping with Josh, too?"

I rolled my eyes. "Hand jobs only—I didn't want him to get suspicious, and I knew I had to give him something, and the hand is the lesser of two evils, I feel."

"So, you're only fucking Nicholas?"

I lowered my eyes then. "It's not just fucking, Ian," I said, as I heard the familiar drive of my car coming up behind us. "Not anymore," I told him softly, turning around to get into my car, so that Fiona could take us home.


	11. Back To You

Chapter Eleven: Back To You

I graciously accepted Nicholas's offer to question all the other witnesses in the Farris case; it wasn't a sign of weakness that I accepted, rather, Josh had informed me that I could stand to lose my voice if I over-exerted myself. Of course, I didn't tell Nicholas that particular tidbit of information, and instead informed him that I read it online. He seemed to believe me, and for the next month, we continued questioning witnesses. In the second week of May, the jury withdrew to debate on Paul Farris's guilt.

Normally, Nicholas and I would be considering what next case we could take on—if the jury didn't deadlock or a mistrial was declared—but I had something much bigger to plan. With Fiona and Debbie's help, we were planning Iana's first birthday, and that, I decided, too precedence over any and every case that came my way. As we worked our way through potential themes, and as Iana attempted to put in a few words—she could now say 'Mama', 'Ian', 'Ana' (for herself), 'Fi-Fi', 'Deb-Deb', 'Li-Li', 'Trev', 'Yes', 'No', 'Now', and 'Peach'—as to which things she wanted and not.

"How about a swimming party, Iana?" Debbie asked.

Iana immediately made a face. "No," she said stoutly.

Fiona grinned. "Do you want Auntie Fi-Fi to bring pies to the party?"

Iana looked enchanted at the idea. "Yes!" she said.

Fiona laughed, turning to look at Debbie's annoyed expression. "Hey, don't get mad. Murphy has been bringing her into the diner since day one. I really can't help it if she likes me better than you, Debs."

Debbie promptly hit Fiona with the party magazine. "That's not fair!"

"Hey, no hitting," I said, taking the magazine away from Debbie, and found myself smirking as Debbie crossed her arms. "Now, Debbie, what do you say to Fiona?"

Debbie sighed. "I'm sorry for hitting you."

"Good," I said, turning to Fiona. "And Fiona, what do you say to Debbie?"

Fiona did her best not to laugh. "I'm sorry I instigated," she replied.

"Better," I said, turning back to Debbie. "Now, do you promise not to hit anyone again if I give this back to you?"

Debbie nodded. "Yes."

"Great," I said, and handed it back, picking up Iana and pulling her into my lap. "Now, my sweet love, do you want Mama to buy you a pretty dress for your party?"

Iana looked excited, and clapped her hands. "Mama, yes!" she cried.

"Should it have a floofy skirt?" I asked her, spreading my arms to show her what I meant. "Like a princess?"

Iana nodded. "Yes! Pwincess!" she said, and I raised my eyebrows.

"She's never said that before," I whispered to Fiona and Debbie. "Well, now that we mailed the invitations—"

"Yesterday," Debbie cut in, tossing her hair. "No thanks to you. Franny!" she barked, not even looking up. "I told you, stay away from the gate on the stairs."

Franny dejectedly returned to the circle, and Iana immediately crawled towards her. The two of them looked immediately happier at being so close, and began speaking animatedly to one another. I didn't quite make out what was being said, but the two of them seemed happy, and that was the most important thing.

"You said that you wanted to handle the invitations this year, Debbie," I said diplomatically as I picked up another party magazine. "I gave you the list, and you designed and sent out the invites on time."

"Yeah, I know," Debbie said, smiling to herself.

"Should we have a pink theme?" Fiona asked.

I sighed. "Iana loves pink, but Trevor's going to be there with Ian, and I don't want to make waves, if you know what I mean."

Fiona nodded. "Point taken," she said.

"How's things with Josh?" Debbie asked.

"Yeah," Fiona cut in, turning a page in the magazine. "We haven't seen him in a while. You two doing okay?"

I shrugged. "Who knows?" I muttered. "Relationships only last on communication and honesty, and he doesn't like the first one."

"What do you mean?" Debbie wanted to know, lowering the magazine.

I bit my lip. "Well, I don't think he thinks he's obligated to text me very much anymore, let alone call me."

"That's insane," Fiona replied. "Like, ever?"

I shrugged. "Not really. But what can I do? I don't want to go all demanding on his ass. I have my own things to do, too."

Fiona sighed, putting her magazine down and looking skeptical. "This doesn't have anything to do with Nicholas, does it?"

"Nicholas?" Debbie asked, all ears. "That delicious lawyer you work with?"

I rolled my eyes. "Nicholas has nothing to do with me. We're friends. We just work on cases together in the courtroom."

"He's the one that saved her when that witness went mental," Fiona explained to Debbie, and our younger sister nodded.

"So, he's chivalrous and a babe!" Debbie said.

I shrugged. "That's beside the point," I went on, leaning back against the couch. "Josh and I are in a relationship, and Nicholas... He doesn't do the whole family thing."

Debbie made a face. "What's that mean?"

"It means he doesn't want to get married or have children," I replied.

"I get the children part, for Iana's sake," Fiona put in. "But do you see yourself actually getting married someday, Murph? As the only Gallagher who's gotten married recently, I can tell you that it's no walk in the park."

"Yeah, because you barely knew him, and then when he cut out, you went off with Sean, and god knows how that turned out," Debbie put in, and I could see that this was a sore subject for both of them, as Fiona immediately looked uncomfortable.

"I think, with the right person, that marriage can be a beautiful thing," I said quietly. "I don't know if I'd ever want to get married, but... Who knows?"

Fiona nodded. "Yeah. I mean, maybe I could try it again someday. Who knows?"

"Yeah, and maybe I'll find my right person," Debbie said quietly. "Who knows?"

I shook my head. "Guess nobody does until they find it."

Debbie turned and looked at me. "Do you think anybody does?"

"Find love?" Fiona asked.

I shrugged. "Love and marriage are two totally different things," I said, suddenly feeling like some kind of weird guru. "You don't need love to get married, but you need love to have a successful marriage. But with love comes honesty, responsibility, communication—a whole battery of things that not everybody understands how to deal with. The problem is, we don't always know how to deal with those things before we enter a commitment like that, which some people consider to be lifelong."

"Do you think it's lifelong, Murph?" Debbie asked.

I shook my head. "I can't say if it is for me. I know it must be for some people, but everyone's different, and it's always important to remember that when you decide to enter a life-changing decision like that."

"Do you want to, Murph?" Fiona said quietly.

I smiled. "Maybe I would. With the right person, and at the right time," I said softly. "Never really thought about it."

. . .

Iana's party began that day with a bright, sunny day that only late spring in Chicago could offer in an appropriate manner. I was pleased that everyone who was invited at least made an appearance, but the staples remained—Ian, Fiona, Debbie, Franny, Liam, Trevor, Hugo, Allie, Rebecca, and several other babies and parents from Iana's daycare. As I walked around the party with the birthday girl, Iana was all smiles, greeting everyone in her typical, enthusiastic way, just wanting things the way they were. After a while, she lay her head on my shoulder, simply watching the festivities, and I knew I would feel saddened if she had to take a nap at her own birthday party.

"So, did Josh just not show up, or...?" Ian asked me quietly, as we stood on the back porch, watching the party from above.

I sighed, turning to look at him; he was taking a turn holding Iana, who was plenty pleased to be in his arms for a change. "I didn't invite him."

Ian raised his eyebrows. "Seriously?"

I shook my head. "No, I didn't have the guts not to," I admitted. "I told him where and when, but he had to work... With Chrissy," I said, plastering that dentist-worthy smile onto my face that Chrissy seemed to possess in every picture. "It's just as well," I said. "Having Josh here would have created negativity and I don't want that for Iana's special day."

Ian smiled. "I'm glad he's not here, too."

"Yeah?" I asked. "Why?"

He smirked. "Because I told Lip, Carl, and Trevor about what he did, and let's just say, had he shown up, he wouldn't have been able to walk afterwards."

"Easy, tiger," I said, shaking my head at him, but nevertheless smirking back. "If anyone's going to hit him, it's going to be me."

"Yeah?" Ian asked. "Promise to film it?"

I scoffed. "No," I replied, although thinking it was probably an idea that would only seem to be a good one at the time. "I'm an attorney. I could get disbarred if I did something like that. And I would never be a public defender," I said, shuddering.

"You like your cushy job, don't you?" Ian asked.

I smirked, lowering my eyes. "It definitely has its perks, I'll give you that."

"Yeah, I can see why," he replied.

I raised my eyes to him then, confused. "What do you mean?" I asked.

Ian nodded to the backyard. "I think your gift just showed up, Murph."

"My—?" I asked, following his line of sight, and feeling hot all over—and it wasn't just the day—when I saw Nicholas getting out of his car. "Oh, my god..." I whispered, gripping onto the beam on the porch.

"Well, don't be shy," Ian said, nudging me forward. "Go and greet him."

I rolled my eyes at him, walking down the steps and towards Nicholas, who was hesitating beside his car. "Hey," I said, smiling at him. "What brings you here?"

"Just wanted to see the birthday girl...and her mother," he added, lowering his voice with a deliciously handsome smile. "Plus, I may have brought over some notes regarding our closing arguments. The jury could be back tomorrow, if the rumors are true," he said, handing over the paperwork. "I hate to do this here, but..."

"No, it's fine," I said, the notion of having him so close beginning to be overwhelming, given the notion that I was not the only single parent at Iana's daycare. "Why don't you grab Iana's present out of the back?" I asked him, smiling at the large box wrapped in magenta paper and finished off with a massive, pink silk bow. "I'll show you where they're kept, and we can go over our closing arguments inside."

Nicholas smiled. "Sounds like a plan."

I opened the folder he'd brought, maneuvering it between us, giving us the air that we were working as we filed through the backyard and up the back steps. I looked up at Ian then, who gave me a knowing smirk, and I gave him an annoyed expression and flipped him off, which caused him to laugh as we stepped inside. I hesitated for a moment, knowing that this was the first time that Nicholas had been over to the house, and wondering if he would find something scathing to say about it.

"I like it," he said quietly, and I turned to look at him.

"What?"

"The house. Looks like a family lives here," he said with a smile.

I gave a slight nod. "Not what you expected, huh?"

"It's better," he said quietly.

I rolled my eyes. "Come on, Hallmark Card," I said, my tone dripping with annoyance as I led him to the coffee table. "Put the present down there with the rest. We can go over our closing arguments upstairs."

"Perfect," Nicholas said, crossing the room and placing the gift in its proper place.

"Mind the child gate," I said, stepping over it carefully. "Liam likes to jump them, but Ian and I have told him he probably shouldn't."

"I remember these," Nicholas said fondly, doing his best to maneuver himself over it. "When Charlotte and Lucas were little, I remember being so annoyed by them. Now sometimes I wish I could go back—take back some of the things I said."

I turned to face him, once we got to the top of the stairs, and placed my hand on his shoulder. "I really am sorry," I said quietly. "To me, at least, it seems like you and Charlotte got closer, once you got older."

Nicholas nodded. "Yeah. Broke my mom's heart when she left for Los Angeles. After she was diagnosed, Charlotte never wavered in conquering her dream."

I smiled up at him. "Wish we could all be like that," I said, turning around and leading the way to my bedroom.

"You're like that, Murphy."

I laughed a little then, opening my door and flicking on the light. "Well, I don't know about that," I said quietly, shutting the door behind me. "Here," I said, gesturing to my bed. "Sit down, and we can go over the closing arguments."

Nicholas sat for a moment, and watched as I moved to open the folder again. "You do realize that I didn't come over here for that, right?"

I smiled, shutting the folder. "Of course."

"I know you probably wrote yours already..."

I hunched my shoulders, grinning at him. "Admittedly, yes."

Nicholas reached out and took the folder from me and placed it on my dresser, before moving back to sit beside me. "So, no Josh today?"

I shook my head. "No Josh today."

"Was he uninvited?"

I laughed. "Well, he was working today...just like you said you'd be."

"I cut out early," he said, shrugging. "Guess you can't do that when you're a doctor. You could end up getting sued."

"Ever since I found out about him and Chrissy, things have been different. When he is with me, it's almost as if he's throwing himself into the motions, whereas I just go through them. I don't know if he knows I don't care that he's cheating—it's just the lying. Of course, I'm a liar, too, which makes me a hypocrite, but still..."

"You said you told him you knew?"

I sighed. "That whole day," I said quietly, running my fingers along my neck, "was a whole nightmare waiting to happen."

"Does it still hurt? Your neck?"

"Not so much physically as emotionally. The memory, you know?" I asked. "Dr. Normal, my adopted stepfather, he caught me once, doing something he didn't approve of, and he ended up burning me with the buckle of his belt."

Nicholas's eyes turned to thunder. "What?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Please tell me it was an accident."

I shook my head. "Not even close."

"Jesus, Murphy."

I sighed. "Yeah. I never thought the pain of that memory would go away, but now that I'm here, and I know that I'm safe..." I felt my shoulders lifting then, before I allowed them to fall. "...I don't know. Things are different now, but there needs to be a change."

"Can I see it?"

I blinked, turning and looking at Nicholas. "What?"

"Can I see where he...where he hurt you?"

Normally, I would've said no outright, but seeing the pain that Nicholas was failing miserably to conceal in his eyes made me change my mind. I got to my feet then, lifting up the cold shoulder top I was wearing, and revealing to Nicholas the scar, halfway hidden by my skirt. I gasped then as Nicholas reached out, pulling my skirt down ever so slightly, so as to expose the entire burn mark from nearly six years ago.

"Nicholas?" I whispered.

Nicholas said nothing, tracing the mark for a moment before he leaned forward, pressing his lips to it, and then looking up at me. "I don't want anyone to hurt you, Murphy. I don't want anyone to ever hurt you again."

I reached down then, cupping my face with his hand. "So, don't hurt me," I whispered to him, my voice filled with emotion. "Don't hurt me, Nicholas."

Nicholas grabbed me by the waist then, pulling me so that I was length-wise against him, and kissed me with a hunger and a passion that I'd never felt before in my life. When he unzipped his pants, I immediately took my shirt and skirt off, standing there and waiting for him. As I grew impatient, I dragged his shirt form his body, and heard him rip the condom from its plastic chamber as I threw myself onto my stomach.

I gasped then as he took me by my hips, and I made a grab for my pillow to prevent myself from crying out when he came for me. And come he did, entering me as easily as one could, and I felt my eyes rolling back in my head instantly at the sensation. I felt my toes curl completely then as I kept a good grip upon my pillow, not wanting to disturb the party. When it was over, I sobbed into the pillow, never wanting this to end again. And, in a rare moment of sincerity, Nicholas lifted me then, into his arms, and held me, and I could feel the tears upon his cheeks as well, as he knew it, as I did, that things were to change.

. . .

It was a final treat of Iana's birthday to see her walking on her own, without the aid of Ian or myself to guide her. As Ian and I cleaned up after the guests had gone home, I found I was pleased that Iana was so tired out, for she looked so beautiful when she slept. I mentally reminded myself to get some shots of her this way, knowing that she would be unlikely to forgive me in her teenage years, but come to appreciate them down the line.

"So, how did your closing arguments talk go?" Ian asked. "You two were up there for well over an hour, you know..."

I flushed, continuing to wrap up leftovers and put them into the fridge. "Oh. Were we?" I asked him, trying to disassociate from the implications. "Well, the jury is due to come back sometime soon, so we want to get ready..."

"Cut the crap, Murphy."

I turned to Ian then, shocked at his directness. "What?"

"You were sleeping with him. I know you were."

I sighed. "I'm surprised you didn't call it fucking..."

He raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said it wasn't."

I shook my head. "Couldn't have been."

"Why?" he asked.

I sighed, leaning against the counter, knowing that I had to get the rest of the finger sandwiches into the fridge before the cold cuts on them spoiled. "Well, because we..."

"Yeah?"

"We cried," I said quietly, my voice breaking. "We cried, and I know why we cried, because it's so fucking obvious..."

"Why'd you cry?" Ian wanted to know.

"Because I'm...with Josh," I said quietly. "I think Nicholas wants to be with me now, because I said something about change. He knows things are bound to go one way or another with Josh—he'll either dump me to be with Chrissy or he'll stay with me and never tell me about it. The point is, Nicholas thinks that I still care."

"He does?"

I sighed. "I told him I'm pissed about Josh lying to me, but I'm a liar too. Besides, Nicholas could just think I'm being brave..."

"You're not being brave?" Ian asked.

I shook my head. "Not for this."

"Then, for what?"

"For my own sake," I whispered. "I'm not a hundred-percent clear on this. I don't know if Nicholas cares about me enough to sell his values short. What if he just wants to keep things the way they are?"

"Is that what you want, Murph?" Ian wanted to know.

I locked my eyes with his. "I think you know it's not what I want," I replied.

. . .

"Has the jury reached a verdict?" Judge Gresham asked the following Monday, when court was finally back in session.

"We have, Your Honor. We find the defendant, Paul Farris, guilty of conspiracy to commit first-degree murder, so say we all."

Judge Gresham nodded. "Very good. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury for your service. You are excused." As the jury files out, Judge Gresham turns to Paul Farris. "Paul Farris, you are remanded into the custody of Cook County Department of Corrections in preparation for sentencing. Court is adjourned," he said, slamming down his gavel quickly, and sweeping out of the courtroom.

Nicholas turned to me then. "We've won!" he cried out, picking me up and swinging me around the room. "Murphy, we've won!"

I found I was laughing aloud then in joy as Paul was led out of the courtroom, giving both me and Nicholas scathing looks as Nicholas set me down. "Where shall we celebrate?"

I shrugged. "The wine bar is fine with me," I replied.

Nicholas nodded, already gathering his things together. "Let's go."

We stepped outside into the late afternoon sunshine and made our way down the stairs, and the block, until we reached the wine bar. Just as we were about to step inside, the telltale sound of shoes on the pavement beside us startled us and, turning, a familiar face appeared through the crowds of people. I felt my jaw drop then, as well as Nicholas stiffening beside me, as the figure emerged, and I did my best to make sure that Nicholas and I weren't touching.

"Josh?" I asked, surprised to see him.

"Murphy," he replied, giving a stiff nod to Nicholas. "Nicholas."

"Josh," Nicholas said stoically. "I'll be inside," he said softly to me, before opening the door of the place and vanishing from view.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him.

Josh sighed. "I heard the verdict was given today."

I sighed. "You heard right."

"Here to drink your troubles away?" Josh wanted to know.

I pulled a face. "Of course not. We're here to celebrate. Paul was found guilty just five minutes ago of conspiracy to commit first-degree murder. He's in custody until sentencing, which should happen within the month."

Josh grinned. "Murphy, that's amazing!"

I nodded. "Yes. Yes, it is."

Josh's smile immediately vanished. "Look, I know I've been kind of a ghost lately, and things have to change."

I shook my head. "Josh, you don't understand—"

"Oh, I do understand," Josh said, cutting across me. "I understand that I have to be the kind of boyfriend that you deserve. One that is considerate of your needs. Communication, honesty, loyalty, respect—I want to give you all of that and more, Murphy."

I shook my head at him. "Josh, it's really not that simple—"

"Everything is simple, Murphy," Josh said, stepping forward and taking my hand. "Everything is simple when you're in love."

I felt as if my eyes had the temptation to pop out of my skull. "I'm sorry. Did you just say what I think you just said?"

Josh nodded. "I did. I love you, Murphy."

I bit my lip, unsure of how to respond. "Thank you?" I said, hating myself that it sounded like a question, but it truly was.

He chuckled. "I know it's a shock, and believe me, I get it," he went on, talking a mile a minute then, in his enthusiasm. "But I don't want anything to be a shock to you, Murphy, nothing. But I think this will be one to you..."

"This being?" I asked, wondering if this was some elaborate skit he'd come up with. "I don't understand any of this..."

Josh grinned, keeping one hand in mine as he reached into his pocket and got down on one knee before me then, and I felt the urge to say 'no' half a dozen times. "Murphy Margaret Gallagher," Josh said, the sound of my full name on his lips sounding so strange to me, "I know I haven't always been there when you needed me, but that stops today. I love you, and I want to spend my life with you. So," he said, flipping open the ring box with the back of his index finger, "will you marry me?"

I hesitated for a moment, very aware that a crowd had gathered around us, and that Nicholas was likely to see us from the inside of the restaurant. "Josh, I really—" I began.

"Shh, don't say anything," Josh whispered, slipping the ring onto my finger, which had to have been the ugliest piece of jewelry I'd ever seen. "Don't tell me your answer yet," he said, getting to his feet and kissing me on the cheek. "Give it a few days, wear the ring, and do what your heart tells you," he said, walking off down the street.

"Congratulations."

I turned around then, seeing Nicholas, and my heart broke to see his expression. "Nicholas, wait, you don't—"

"No," he said, holding his hand up. "No, don't tell me. I get it. Despite everything—despite you telling me not to hurt you, you accept the very man who does."

"Nicholas, if you would just—"

"I don't want to hear it, Murphy!" Nicholas said, cutting across me. "You'll make a wonderful doctor's wife. Have a good day, Murphy Fairfax," he said, his voice breaking at the end of his sentence, before he turned and walked away, down the sun-splashed street, his shadow growing longer and longer as he walked further and further away from me.

TO BE CONTINUED


	12. Climax

Chapter Twelve: Climax

All my efforts to get in touch with Nicholas failed, and all I could think about was his expression when he'd thought that I'd accepted Josh's marriage proposal. His reasoning behind my supposed acceptance was so warped that even I didn't want to begin to analyze it. And as the days flickered by, and I was forced to sit beside Nicholas in the courtroom again, as Paul Farris was sentenced to life in prison without parole, I felt empty then as Nicholas gathered his things and left me behind. We'd got the verdict we handed, but the fact that it appeared—on the surface, at the very least—that I belonged to another man had hurt him deeply.

In the days that followed, I began to look at things from another angle, from his point of view, and began to understand his reasoning. Of course, I wished he could understand that I would never knowingly marry Josh. Given the fact that there was no chemistry was one thing, but there was also the notion that he and I could never be compatible, due to all the lies we'd told the other and the false promises we'd made to ourselves. How I wanted just to speak to Nicholas, but such a thing was difficult, due to his refusal to speak to me.

After court, I went to go pick up Iana, and went back home to pack a bag, and showed up at the diner afterwards. I asked Fiona if I could crash at her place and, upon seeing the devastation behind my eyes, she immediately accepted. When she got off work and found me, glued to the baby monitor and some bloody horror film simultaneously, she immediately made a groan of disgust and switched off the T.V.

"Okay," she said, sitting down beside me, her no-nonsense attitude reigning supreme. "What is going on with you? Ian says you've been quiet for days, and you didn't text him to tell him you're crashing here. What's going on?"

I shrugged. "Can't spend a long weekend with my sister?"

Fiona smiled. "Well, of course you can—I love having you here, Murph. But in all seriousness, why are you so mopey, and why are you wearing the most...god-awful diamond ring that I've ever seen?"

I smirked, which turned into a chuckle as I finally allowed myself to look down at it again. "I originally thought it was just me, but I guess it isn't."

"It isn't," Fiona replied, making a face. "What the hell?"

I sighed. "Josh asked me to marry him."

"Holy shit," she said, immediately straightening up. "What did you say?"

I shook my head.

"You said 'no' and he gave you the ring anyway?!"

I shook my head again. "No. I tried to say 'no', but Josh insisted I wear the ring until I make up my mind," I replied.

"Are you going to say yes?"

"Fuck no!" I cried out, gasping aloud then, shocked that the words had come out so fast, and without any effort on my part to call them back. "Oh, my god..."

"Seems that you feel really strongly about that."

I nodded. "I have to."

"Why?" she asked.

I bit my lip. "Okay, Ian's the only one that knows—well, him and Nicholas—but I'm having kind of a crisis situation and I need my sister right now."

Fiona nodded. "I'm here."

I sighed, my shoulders slacking completely. "Well, I found out a few weeks ago that Josh is cheating on me with Chrissy Andrews."

"That know-it-all looking bitch who's all over his social media?"

I nodded. "The same."

"Jesus," Fiona replied, running her hands through her hair. "Wow. I was not expecting that from a person like Josh."

My eyebrows knit together. "On the surface?"

Fiona nodded again. "Well, yeah. I guess he's one of those guys who looks good on paper, but is really an inconsiderate jackass in real life."

I sighed, shaking my head. "If he's an inconsiderate jackass, then I'm an inconsiderate bitch," I reply, knowing that, since I truly needed my sister, I needed to tell her the truth.

"What do you mean?" Fiona asked.

I sighed. "I've been cheating on Josh..."

"Uh-huh," Fiona said quietly. "With Nicholas?"

I blinked. "Yeah. How'd you know?"

She smiled, reaching out and taking my hand. "I saw the way you two were looking at each other at Iana's birthday—we all saw," she said simply. "It wasn't too hard to figure out what was really going on between you two."

I bit my lip. "So, it wasn't the fact that we were in my room for an hour?"

"Ian and I did a pretty good job with distracting the guests," Fiona said, laughing at the notion of patting herself on the back, literally. "Your cover story of rehearsing closing arguments was brilliant, by the way. Apparently, none of the other parents in Iana's daycare are lawyers, so you lucked out."

I smiled. "Thanks."

"So, I guess what it all comes down to is," Fiona said, taking my hand which was being held prisoner by Josh's ugly ring, "what do you want to do?"

I sighed. "Fi, it's not that simple..."

"Believe me, I know how complicated love can be," she said quietly. "When I was married, my ex-boyfriend, Jimmy, resurfaced in my life again, and believe me, that was hard enough. And then, I fell hard for Sean, and that was complicated, because he was my boss. And then we lived together and he asked me to marry him and things were really looking up, and then all hell broke loose when he started using again."

I lowered my eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, it is what it is," Fiona said simply.

I nodded. "That's true."

"So, what do you want?" she asked me. "If you could have it your way—complications aside, and everything could ultimately work out—what would you want?"

I sighed. "I'd tell Josh to take the ring and shove it."

Fiona grinned. "That's all you'd do?"

I shook my head. "No. But I'd need to figure out my next move until then."

Fiona nodded at me. "That seems fair. Now, take that fucking ring off your finger before it blinds me, and you and I are going to have a man-free night."

"Man-free?" I asked.

"Sure," Fiona replied. "There aren't any men around here."

I shook my head. "There are men close by. Bet on it."

"Yeah, but none that you want, right?" she asked.

I sighed, leaning back up against the couch, twisting the ring back and forth on my finger, knowing that an ultimate decision had to be made. "No," I said quietly, knowing that my sister got it right this time. "No, none that I want."

. . .

I returned home the following day; the girls' weekend was not all it was cracked up to be, and although Fiona and I loved each other, we couldn't be around the other twenty-four/seven. It was a relief, however, to know that I was on the same page with at least one person in my life, and now I would up that to two. I told Ian about the goings-on—the proposal, and how Nicholas automatically assumed that I'd accepted it, and about how I couldn't for the life of me figure out how to get my way out of this one.

Ian, for his part, was sympathetic, and told me to sleep on it, then sleep on it again, because having a good nights' sleep meant the difference between making a good decision and making a bad one. I liked the analogy, and followed it to the letter, knowing that, ultimately, the right decision would come to me. I knew what I wanted to do, but I also knew that I had to have a plan so as to carefully go about it.

"I guess I really assumed that I'd have more time," I said quietly. "More time to figure out how to break things off with Josh..."

"Is that what you want?" Ian asked.

I nodded. "Of course it is. I can't be with someone who lies."

Ian smirked. "What about cheats?"

I sighed. "Of course not. But I'm a cheater, too. I'm no angel, and anyone who's going to be with me has to know that."

"I think the best of us do," he replied.

"Yeah, but how can we be sure?" I asked him, turning to face him for the first time, really wanting a straight answer on this one. "How can we be sure that anyone we want to be with is going to be dependable enough to—"

"The short answer, Murphy, is, we don't."

I throw myself back onto the couch. "Well, that's awfully reassuring."

Ian laughed at my sarcasm. "You wanted the truth, and I provided it. Simple."

"None of this is simple," I replied, feeling that, first the necklace, and now the ring were symbols that were now anchors, pulling me towards Josh, despite the notion that I'd not yet given an answer, and yet, I wanted all of this to be over before it began.

"You only live once, Murph," Ian said as we sat there in the living room, Iana between us, just watching us interact.

I turned back to look at him again. "I know."

He smiled. "I mean, come on. Say you were going to die tomorrow. What would you want to do tonight before that happens? Where do you see yourself?"

I smiled back at him. "I like being home with you, Ian," I said, relieved that the simple answer had come so easily to me. "You and Iana are important to me."

"What about Josh?" Ian asked, and I felt my insides recoil at the thought of him, and knew it couldn't continue be this way. "You're wearing the engagement ring, and have been since he proposed to you two weeks ago."

I shrugged, looking down at the square-cut diamond that made my finger look like it was in a cheap jewelry commercial from the 1990's. "I know. Josh told me he wanted me to wear it until I made my decision."

"And have you?" Ian asked.

"Worn it? Yeah. Grudgingly," I muttered through my teeth.

"I mean, have you made a decision? You've told me yourself that you only want to get married once, Murph. Do you want Josh to be your once, after his cheating and his lying and lack of communication?"

I shook my head. "No," I replied. "Even though I'm guilty of the same..."

"We're not talking about you, Murphy. We're talking about Josh."

"Right..."

"So, what do you want to do?" Ian asked.

I straightened up then. "I want to fight," I whispered, and immediately moved to put Iana into Ian's lap. "Can you watch her please, Ian? I have to...go and take care of something," I said, getting to my feet and throwing him a look. "I won't be back late."

Ian smiled, balancing Iana carefully on his lap who had, by this time, leaned her head down on his shoulder. "We'll be fine. Get out there and do the right thing! You're twenty-three-years-old, plenty old enough to make up your mind!"

I grinned at him. "Thanks!" I said, dashing towards the front door and grabbing my keys. I remembered Josh's text message earlier as I ran out of the house, informing me that he would be back that afternoon from that conference with Chrissy, but had lots of paperwork to go through at the hospital, so he wouldn't be able to see me until the following day, where I knew he would likely want an answer from me. "Fuck him and his schedule," I declared, getting into my car and flooring it. "We're going to fix this once and for all."

I drove as fast as I could across town, crossing my fingers that I wouldn't get pulled over as I made my way into downtown. Once there, I got to the hospital with ease, parking in the lot and using the key Josh had given me, which I knew was likely ill-advised, given my family's background and our penchant for addiction. I walked through the deserted back hallways before I got to the pediatric suite, hoping to find Josh alone and not wrapped in Chrissy's arms. Not for jealousy sake, but for the notion that he and I needed to have a one-on-one conversation, and although I'm not one to ambush people, I figured it could yield the best results when one couldn't rehearse their possible replies.

I walked towards Josh's office and tried the door and, finding it unlocked, stepped inside, and spotted Josh immediately at his desk, on his own. I waited for him to look up when I came in and, when he did, I slowly closed the door behind me. I did my best to keep a neutral face, not wanting Josh to think I had any ulterior motives here, but also wanting him to know that there was no escaping the truth.

"Hello, Josh."

Josh immediately got to his feet, forcing a smile onto that near-perfect mouth of his as he crossed the room towards me. "Murphy, I didn't expect you," he said, pulling me to him and kissing me lightly on the cheek. "What are you doing here?"

I sighed, untangling myself from him, and hoping I'd never have to convince myself to allow him to touch me again. "Look, Josh, we have to talk."

"Tomorrow, Murphy, please. I'm so busy tonight..."

"No, I want to talk right now," I said, my voice firm. "I haven't ever asked you for anything Josh, but I'm asking you right now, straight up—why have you been avoiding me and cheating on me with Chrissy?" I asked, and you could've heard a pin drop.

Josh looked shocked for a moment before his mouth turned into a hard line. "You know as well as I do that you have been fucking Nicholas from behind my back since day one."

"That's a lie," I said, on the attack now. "I was only fucking him before we were exclusive, and you told me it didn't matter to you."

"Then how do you explain taking up with him again after we were exclusive?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "That was only after I discovered you and Chrissy were together behind _my_ back," I replied, quickly losing patience. "Yes, I should've talked to you about it, but I didn't want to hear another lie from you, Josh."

"So, you lied?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yes. Yes, I lied. But I'm telling you about it now—the first time you're confronting me on it—without hesitation, because I know it's the right thing to do. I'm sick and tired of being painted into a corner, Josh, but it ends today. Just tell me why you were sleeping with Chrissy, Josh! Tell me."

"Because she didn't lose her virginity to her fucking brother!"

I felt my mouth drop open. We'd never discussed my past with Lip; only have glossed over my time with Jessica, and the abridged version of what had happened in Mexico with Mickey, when I'd become pregnant with Iana. "What?" I whispered.

"I didn't believe it, until I saw all the awkward interactions you two had together," he replied scathingly, and shook his head. "Once my mother told me..." He shuddered. "I could barely look at you anymore, Murphy."

I gritted my teeth. "Your mother told you?"

"For my best interest, yes."

"Of course she fucking did," I muttered. "Did your mother also happen to mention that Lip and I had no idea that we were siblings at the time of said fucking?"

Josh paled. "No. No, she didn't."

"Jesus Christ," I whispered, shaking my head. "Look, Josh, there's a few things that make a marriage work—communication, compassion, and love, just to name a few. You obviously don't feel any of those for me," I said, taking off the ring without hesitation and giving it to him, "so here's my answer to your marriage proposal. My answer is 'no'," I said simply, handing over the hospital key. "I don't want anything from you or for your mother." I reached into my bag then and handed over the Tiffany's necklace he had given me for Christmas. "I'm applying for different doctors for me and for Iana tomorrow morning. I no longer want anything to do with you, and I certainly don't want my daughter poisoned by your mother," I replied, turning on my heel and going to leave.

"You're a fucking slut anyway," Josh muttered.

Turning around, I walked right up to him, without hesitation. "I've been wanting to do this forever," I said, grinning inwardly before I slammed my forehead into his nose with all my might, and Josh wailed in pain. "And that's the Gallagher way," I said, stomping out of the office, my dignity still intact.

As I drove home that night, I mentally went through what I would need for work the following day, which entailed the detailed case notes I'd neglected to bring home to look over. Rolling my eyes at my thoughtlessness, I continued on the main street until I reached the firm and pulled into the parking lot. After making sure I'd gotten all of Josh's blood off my forehead, I shut off my car completely and got out. I was shocked when, getting out of my car, I noticed that Nicholas's car was still in the lot, which is something I found a bit perplexing, as it was nearing nine o'clock at night, and he should've been home. I went inside the elevator, which came quickly, and arrived on the correct floor and walked through the lobby and past the assistant cubicles. It was an interesting thing, to see everything empty and shadowed in semi-darkness, the middle part of the sunset creeping in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and as I walked towards my office, I heard virtually no sounds from the general vicinity.

I stepped up to my office—still unlocked for the cleaning crew, due to come in after ten—and walked inside, flicking on the light as I went. I found the notes on my desk, still there because of me leaving in a hurry and neglecting to pack them into my bag, and gathered them quickly. I turned around then, seeing the light under Nicholas's office door, and bit my lip, wondering if he was alone in there. I sighed, my guard down for the millionth time as I left my office, shutting the door behind me before walking down the hallway to Nicholas's office, extending my fist and knocking on the door.

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice skeptical.

I opened the door slowly and, after I stuck my head around it, Nicholas immediately got to his feet upon seeing me. I blinked at the formality of it all as I stepped inside, knowing that I should have expected it, given his reception of me these past few days, as I closed the door behind me as I stepped forward hesitantly. "I didn't know anyone else would be here," I said with a nervous laugh. "I just left some case notes in my office. We have the big meeting tomorrow, and I wanted to be prepared..."

"Preparedness is next to godliness," Nicholas joked.

I laughed then, and his deep blue eyes conveyed a new meaning at hearing that sound. "Yeah, that's true," I replied, tucking a stray amount of my hair behind my ear. "What are you working on so late?"

"Oh... Just case notes," he replied. "Preliminaries on the Eastman trial we're covering in a few weeks, things like that..."

I nodded. "Right," I said, moving to turn around; I was shocked that I actually felt pain watching him like this, and wanted out. "Well, I'll just let you get back to it..."

"Murph?"

I turned around, attempting to blink back tears as he said the shortened version of my name—it was definitely progress. "Yeah?" I asked.

"Are you okay?"

I sighed. "I want to be okay, Nicholas, I really do..."

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, sounding concerned as he crossed around his desk and came towards me. "Listen, you can talk to me. Whatever it is..." He sighed. "Look, Murph, I know I was a real jerk in the beginning, but I thought, after everything, we became friends—good friends, even. And friends tell each other when something's up."

I bit my lip, looking away for a moment before I locked eyes with him, not wanting to bring up that his reaction when he'd assumed I'd accepted Josh's marriage proposal was far from what a friend would do, but pushed it aside. "I ended things with Josh tonight," I told him, willing my voice not to shake. "For good."

Nicholas blinked. "Are you okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. I really let him have it, so much so that there may be assault charges brought up against me."

Nicholas tried and failed not to smile at my words. "You let him have it for stepping out on you with Chrissy, right?" he asked.

I laughed. "You're fucking right I did," I said, finding myself smiling up at him. "I just couldn't take it anymore—being with someone who doesn't care about me enough, and whose assertion of love rang hollow..." I found the closeness with Nicholas more difficult than I could ever imagine, so I stepped back then. "I can't even do this anymore."

"Do what, Murphy?"

I shook my head. "Be this close to you—do you realize how painful that is?" I asked, and Nicholas's expression took on a deeper meaning then.

"What are you saying, Murph?"

"I'm saying I'm done, Nicholas. We're done."

"What?" he asked, confused. "Why?"

I sighed, knowing that the words wouldn't come for so long—after all I'd went through, with Dr. Normal and Tina; admitting my love for Jessica after having my breakdown prove that I'd lost a piece of who I was; loving and losing Lip; finding out who I really was; sleeping with Mickey and having Iana... All of it was becoming too much to bear, at least, until I opened my mouth and allowed the truth to spill out.

"I'm saying that I fucking want you—all of you and everything that entails," I said, my voice shaking, and Nicholas stared at me then as if it was for the first time. "I want you, Nicholas, and I just... I can't work with you or see you anymore because it's too painful for me to ignore it anymore. The main reason I ended things with Josh tonight was his cheating and lack of communication, but it was also because I want you. I want you and that's not going away, so until then, I'm going to work for another division of the firm, to forget and just attempt to move on from this."

"Murph, you don't have to go anywhere—"

"No, I have to," I replied. "I can't have you playing cat and mouse with me anymore. The notion that you can come and go as you please just doesn't work for me anymore. I have a daughter to think about, Nicholas, and she should be, has to be, my main priority, not running around and attempting to re-live the teenage years I was supposed to have but didn't. Iana is my life, and so is this job, and if I can't have both because I'm chasing after you, something is very wrong here, and I cannot allow myself to—"

"God, Murph, can't you just shut up for a minute?!" Nicholas demanded, taking me by the shoulders then and dragging me across the floor to him, my protests freezing on my lips as he leaned down and kissed me roughly on the mouth.

I felt a cry escape my lips then as my case notes fell to the floor then, and I shoved Nicholas backwards, towards his desk, unknotting his tie as quickly as I dared. I felt my heart skip a beat at the notion that he was already hard at work on undressing me, my skirt falling to the ground and my panties following suit. I dragged down his pants, and he made quick work of unbuttoning my blouse and unhooking my bra, and yet as I moved to lie down on the desk, something very unexpected happened. I felt my breath escape my lungs then as Nicholas turned me around, facing me, his lips crashing back to mine as he lifted my legs around his torso, and I felt him begging to enter me then, and I managed to snake my hand back towards his desk drawer, making a grab for a condom, which he slipped on before slipping deliciously into me, while I wantonly dug my heels into his back, bringing him closer.

I clung tightly to Nicholas then, as he did to me, not moving to let me go as we crashed against each other again and again. My lips found his again, our mingling groans being drowned out by the desk squeaking ever so slightly below us, and the impact of our bodies bashing against one another's. I felt something bubbling forth within me—something I'd never experienced before a climax—and I felt it rippling through me and through Nicholas as well. We stared at one another for a moment, before his lips found mine again to prevent us from screaming down the entire building, despite the notion that there was nobody around.

I sighed then, once it had all ended, my legs sore from being stuck in one position for many minutes. As I unhooked them, returning them to merely hanging off the desk, I braced myself against it for a moment as Nicholas grabbed me to him, and I collapsed in his arms, never feeling more complete as I did right then. "Oh, my god..." I whispered.

Nicholas kissed my temple then, not letting me go. "I should've said so a long a time ago," he whispered, and I pulled my head up to look into his eyes. "I want you, Murphy Gallagher," he said throatily, and my eyes locked to his when he said those words to me. "I want you on my arm in public, and in my office. I want it all—I want you to be my girlfriend. I want to spend time with Iana and to get to know her better. I want to make this a relationship, not a friends with benefits situation."

I blinked then, shocked at his words. "You want me?" I whispered.

"I want you," he assured me. "Will you be with me?"

I raised my eyebrows. "You want to be seen in public with me?"

"And Iana and Ian and the rest of your whole family," he replied. "They're wonderful people, Murphy, and I can't see why you were taken away from them."

I sighed. "There is one thing..."

"What?"

I rolled my shoulders. "My first relationship was with a girl..."

Nicholas shrugged. "Who the fuck cares?"

I blinked. "Well, would you care if I said I lost my physical virginity to Lip?" I asked, feeling nervous for what was to come.

"Lip?" he asked, confused. "As in, your brother?"

I nodded. "Yes."

Nicholas mulled it over. "I take it you didn't know at the time..."

"It was the night before I found out," I replied. "That's why I was gone those couple of days for a family emergency. I went to Mexico to get out of my head for a while, and had a one night stand with Iana's father."

"Ian's ex-boyfriend?"

I nodded. "Yes. I'd never tried tequila before, and the night comes and goes in flashes. I know I should've said something before, Nicholas—"

Nicholas silenced me then before kissing me. "You're imperfect, Murphy, but who the fuck isn't?" he asked.

"You don't fault me for Lip?"

"I don't fault either of you," he assured me, his voice gentle. "You didn't know. What were you supposed to do? DNA test the entire Chicago area?"

I blinked. "That's exactly what I said."

Nicholas smiled. "Well, it's true."

I leaned in and kissed him again. "So, what does this all mean?"

Nicholas gathered me to him again, and I found I loved the sensation of his body touching mine, no matter what the situation, and felt relief that I was finally free to admit that to myself in a complete manner. "I'd like to call you my girlfriend..."

I put my arms around his neck. "Do I get to call you my boyfriend?"

"Yes, I fucking hope so," he joked.

I grinned at him. "Okay," I replied.

"Okay?"

I smiled. "Okay, Blomqvist, I'm your girlfriend—who would've thought?" I asked.

And then, just because I wanted to see if I could get away with it, I let go of Nicholas and reached backwards then, to his desk drawer. Feeling his eyes on me made me flush as I extracted a second condom from the drawer, and dragged it across my body before holding it out to him in a coy manner. Nicholas grinned at the invitation, slipping it on before he slipped back inside me, where he belonged, and where I wanted to stay.

END OF SEASON THREE


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